


but let us first do

by emullz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2018-12-22 18:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emullz/pseuds/emullz
Summary: If pressed, James would say it started at the beginning of Sixth Year. Mary would call him nostalgic and cite the party Sirius threw at the very beginning of 1977. Everyone else would roll their eyes and mention the number of things that had ended at that party. Not that they agreed with James, either. The infamous Charms class would be mentioned in the debate, as would the Halloween Feast and the moment James removed his Head Boy badge from the letter and Lily burst into tears. Sirius, not one to miss out on a chance to really tell a story, would counter with the moment Marlene (the oldest) was conceived. Marlene would almost certainly hit him.James’ moment won out, because if “it” hadn’t started on the Hogwarts Express, something certainly had.a retelling of a story that's been documented a thousand times in a million ways: the marauders' time at hogwarts.





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> i've come to call this story The Jiliad, and that's why the title is what it is (a riff off of something hector said). because this fic is absolutely long enough to be called an epic at this point. i've filled entire spiral notebooks with this thing. 
> 
> i fully intend for this thing to keep rolling until the end. bear with me timewise. let me know what you think. interact, engage, and enjoy!

** the beginning **

 

If pressed, James would say it started at the beginning of Sixth Year. Mary would call him nostalgic and cite the party Sirius threw at the very beginning of 1977 (and the very end of 1976). Everyone else would roll their eyes and mention the number of things that had _ended_ at that party. Not that they agreed with James, either. The infamous Charms class would be mentioned in the debate, as would the Halloween Feast and the moment James removed his Head Boy badge from the letter and Lily burst into tears. Sirius, not one to miss out on a chance to really _tell_ a story, would counter with the moment Marlene (the oldest) was conceived. Marlene would almost certainly hit him.

 

James’ moment won out, because if “it” hadn’t started on the Hogwarts Express, _something_ certainly had. It might’ve been the infiltration of war into school, it might’ve been Mary’s new haircut, or it might have even been the start of N.E.W.T. level stress making them jittery. Whatever it was, they all agreed the train ride was something to remember.

 

Remus thought Sirius had started the fight. Not that he’d said anything of that nature to McGonagall upon arrival to school, but he did think it. Mary thought it was Mulciber, Sirius blamed Snape, Dorcas and Marlene (who wasn’t even there) blamed Avery, and Peter gave all the credit to James. Nobody asked James or Lily what they thought, because assumptions were that Lily thought it was James, and that James, in his blind rage at the outcome, didn’t care. 

* * *

**the train**

 

THE FACTS: the Prefect’s carriage was stuffy. Carlisle Adams was an insufferable Head Boy. Sirius, James, and Peter came to this conclusion when they arrived to escort Remus to their chosen compartment. Lily was furiously trying to avoid both James and Snape. Dorcas and Mary were only trying to help. Marlene was in the loo.

 

The corridor in the train was long, but not particularly wide, and Mulciber made some snide remark about Mary’s newly shorn hair (it was generally accepted that it had something to do with an STD and was, on the whole, absolutely vile). Lily stopped short, something snide on her tongue, and then as Remus and James arrived next to her Remus wondered aloud how on Earth the conductor had missed the presence of a troll on his train. Mulciber swore a bit, and then Dorcas swore a bit, and then Avery called Mary a mudblood and made some mention of the previous winter’s attack. That was when things got complicated.

* * *

**the short version**

 

AFTER 10 SECONDS:

—3 windows had shattered

—Mulciber was unconscious

—The skin above Lily’s eye was gushing blood

—Sirius was punching the living daylights out of Avery (who was sporting horns)

—Mary, who had been closest to the exploding windows, was covered in glass and had a completely vacant sort of expression on her face

—Snape was covered in soot and looking at Lily with a mix of revulsion and concern

—Dorcas had stepped in front of Peter, holding up her wand

—James’ robes were on fire

 

* * *

** the aftermath **

 

Carlisle Adams sent sparks into the corridor while Remus pulled Sirius off of Avery. “You five!” Carlisle roared. “Into the Prefect’s Compartment! Severus, get them out of here.” 

 

Dorcas pressed her sleeve into Lily’s forehead as Remus tried to reason with Carlisle. “We didn’t start this, Adams—“

 

“Shut up, the lot of you! Get into the Compartment while I contact your Head of House!” Carlisle’s head, which had always been rather big, was now a startling shade of scarlet. It stood out starkly against the green and silver he wore proudly against his collar, the very green and silver that made Sirius’ blood boil. 

 

“And what about _their_ Head of House!” Sirius burst out. “Or, I’m sorry, your own? James is on _fire_ , you can’t tell me you’re fucking stupid enough to think he did that to himself?” 

 

Lily pushed Dorcas away and made for the compartment, slamming the door in her wake. Bits of glass fell out of the shattered window at the force of it. Dorcas, before running after her friend, held up her hand. It was slick with blood. “Of course, don’t listen to Sirius! I’m sure a Prefect just happened to give herself a curse wound while her friends went around smashing things for fun,” she snapped. “By all means, tell McGonagall. That makes perfect sense!” 

 

Carlisle looked around at the students in surrounding compartments with eyes the sizes of saucers, a sudden panic overtaking his features. “Well, as Head Boy, and a witness to the altercation—“

 

“You weren’t there!” Remus exclaimed. 

 

“—it’s up to me to make the first deliberation. Now, all of you, please follow Miss Evans and Miss Meadowes and please wait for further instruction.” Carlisle then turned on his heel and barely kept himself from running down the length of the train to find the assigned teacher. 

 

The five remaining Gryffindors trudged into the compartment, Mary looking stricken and James still slightly smoking. Lily was at one of the benches, trying to staunch the bleeding with her cardigan and tipping her head back, all while shooing Dorcas away with her other hand. 

 

“Who got you with a slicing charm?” Remus asked, all but collapsing on the bench opposite her. 

 

“S’not a slicing charm. It it was, my healing spell would’ve worked. Dorcas wasn’t lying about the ‘cursed wound’ bit.” Lily kept her eyes closed underneath the makeshift bandage.

 

“Looks pretty badass, Evans,” Sirius said. “How the hell did this happen, anyway?” 

 

And thus started the age old debate, through which Lily was noticeably silent. When asked, everyone in the compartment would contribute this lack of theory to her injury. Everyone except James, of course, who was just as silent as he sat in the compartment with the truth. No matter how much Sirius and Peter and Dorcas thought someone started it, Lily and James knew who had done it. She even had the scar to prove it.

 

* * *

** some more facts **

 

Lily had been desperately trying to avoid confrontation. The beginning of the Summer Holidays had been filled with more than a bit of tears, and Lily had no desire to bring any of that back to the surface. But Mulciber saying something to Mary and Remus sidling over like he hadn’t witnessed the scene by the lake and done absolutely nothing to stop it had made something snap inside of her. And then, Lily Evans, an incredibly powerful witch, raised her wand and (finally) directed her anger at something other than herself. 

 

But she hadn’t said anything, because what had happened hadn’t come purely from her wand, and it was for that reason Lily was afraid of herself. And because Carlisle Adams was a right shithead, and Lily didn’t want to give him any sort of satisfaction. 

 

As the train grew closer and closer to school, the cut on Lily’s head only bled harder, and Sirius’ eye began to blacken. James had burns on his arms where the fire had started, but he’d left them as evidence. Carlisle Adams took up residence outside what was left of the compartment door until the train stopped, and Madam Dearborn bustled in, followed closely by Professor McGonagall. Lily was whisked off before the lecture began, but Dorcas made sure she got the full effect in the Hospital Wing that evening.

 

“It started with disrespect, moved to pure stupidity, and ended with quite the sermon about Inter-House unity,” she said, and Lily would’ve laughed had she not thought it would’ve started the bleeding up again. Marlene laughed for her, though, curled up against Lily’s side like a cat. 

 

“It was one of Minerva’s better tirades, I’d say,” Sirius chimed in from the empty bed next to Lily. James and Peter nodded their assent, but Remus countered with a story from when they’d been caught charming the toilets to erupt bubotuber pus when flushed. By then, even Mary was laughing. Madam Dearborn shooed everyone out but James, Sirius, and Lily just before curfew, and that was the end of the beginning of Sixth Year. 

 

* * *

** the beginning, again **

 

If you pressed Lily some more, she’d say that it was the beginning because it was the first time they’d really fought for something. The first time the eight of them had really ever been on the same side. And then Sirius would pretend to throw up, and James would kiss Lily’s scar, and Sirius would retch even louder. 

 

* * *

** the eight of them **

 

LILY EVANS: kind. clever. a bit snide, but always with a hint of a smile. a force to be reckoned with, in every sense of the phrase.

 

JAMES POTTER: brilliant. loyal. chivalrous to the extent of annoyance, bravery to the extent of recklessness. has some of growing up to do, but all in all a good bloke. 

 

SIRIUS BLACK: too much of everything. too smart, too bored, too broken. always sarcastic, as a shield and as a genuine sense of humor. handsome, and a bit of an ass.

 

DORCAS MEADOWES: extroverted. empathetic. talks a little too loud and a little too much, but nobody seems to mind because she’s an excellent listener. Being one of 5 meadowes children has her craving attention and also not giving a damn.

 

REMUS LUPIN: withdrawn. perceptive. always seems to be surprising in his will and in his disregard for authority. a little worn around the edges, but still good. 

 

MARLENE MCKINNON: tall. unpredictable. known universally as the fittest girl in her year and to most just friends. always a good time, but she demands a lot and she’s used to getting her way.

 

PETTER PETTIGREW: small. reliable. overlooked. fierce as anything when provoked, but altogether diminutive and frustrated by his perpetual awe at his best mates. 

 

MARY MACDONALD: shy. dry. one of those girls who tells dirty jokes under her breath in class to her best friend, but cannot, under any circumstances, be asked to address the professor. the source of the most biting judgement in the whole school, especially because there isn’t anything she doesn’t know.

 

* * *

**the first middle bit**

 

News of the brawl (for that’s how it became known- _the_ brawl) spread through the student body with all the speed and consequence of a wildfire. It didn’t help that Sirius wouldn’t let Madam Dearborn anywhere near his eye, or that Lily’s forehead was almost completely obscured by a pulsing plaster. Or, the entire Gryffindor table noted with satisfaction, gaps in the hair on Avery’s head where the horns had been vanished. It got to the point where every student over the age of 13 could be seen openly mocking Carlisle Adams’ authority. 

 

No sooner had Lily sat down to breakfast than James plopped himself across from her with a cheerful grin. “All right, Evans?”

 

Lily groaned. “Sod off, Potter.” 

 

“After all the quality time spent in the Hospital Wing last night? I’ll tell you, I didn’t get a wink of sleep.”

 

“Neither did I,” Lily retorted, “what with you moaning in pain all night over a simple burn.”

 

“Evans, please, when you’re around I only moan in pleasure.” James grinned, altogether to pleased with himself. 

 

Lily reached for the toast and tried her best to glare underneath her plaster. “When I told you to fuck off, I meant it.” 

 

“Before I obey your every command, I just want to ask how you’re doing. You know, after yesterday. And how the fight started.” James watched as Lily’s cheeks colored and she sat up straighter.

 

“Nobody knows who started the fight,” she said, a bit too quickly. Mary threw herself onto the seat next to Lily, already groaning about her N.E.W.T. schedule. 

 

James raised his eyebrows. “We’re not done talking about this, Evans.” He slid out of his seat and sauntered down the table to where the rest of the Marauders sat, but not before he shot Lily one last glance over his pumpkin juice. 

 

“What was that about?” Mary asked, taking a break from complaining long enough to steal a slice of bacon off Lily’s plate. “Has he finally admitted he wants to shag your brains out? You know, because he’s in love with you, can’t live without you, thinks about you in the small hours of the morning?” 

 

Lily once again tried to glare as the plaster pressed uncomfortably on her forehead. “He doesn’t think about me in the small hours of the morning, and he isn’t in love with me. He just likes to get on my nerves. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t start spreading rumors about me, it’s only the second day of school.” 

 

Mary grinned. “You always say that truth is the most important thing, and then you complain about me spreading it around the whole school. What kind of mixed messages do you plan on sending next?” 

 

Thankfully, Lily was saved from answering by McGonagall, who had come round with schedules and needed to know if she was going to continue with Ancient Runes. Mary mercifully dropped the subject. James, however, did not. 

 

* * *

**fumes**

 

The last class of that first Tuesday was Potions, and Lily had never been more grateful to see Slughorn than she was in that moment. McGonagall had started the day with a truly awful speech about mounting pressure and then assigned a three foot essay, Professor Cassidy had launched straight into a N.E.W.T. level translation of an ancient Aztec curse, and their new Defense professor, Carmichael, was a bloody idiot. Not to mention the stares and whispers the plaster on Lily’s forehead was still attracting. Even, it seemed, from Slughorn himself. 

 

“Miss Evans, are you sure you’re all right to complete today’s assignment? I’m afraid the fumes from this particular salve can get very thick, and I wouldn’t want your injury to, in any way—“

 

“No, Professor, I’m quite alright—“ Lily tried to insist as all her feelings of relief at finally being in the Potions classroom disappeared. 

 

“I’ll work with Lily, Professor, and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” Lily gave James such a withering glare the majority of the class was worried he would end up with a set of horns to match Mulciber. 

 

Slughorn, missing the looks that passed between his students, beamed. “Yes, of course, Mr. Potter. What a wonderful idea! Page 37, everyone.” 

 

As Lily moved her cauldron over to accommodate James at her table, she could feel Severus’ eyes on the back of her neck. “You started the fight,” James muttered. Lily almost screamed out of pure exhaustion. With the day, with her life, but mostly with James. She settled for a terse “excuse me?”

 

“It was you who started the fight,” James said, his eyes flicking involuntarily to Lily’s knife, which was slicing audibly through a Mandrake root. “What I really want to know is what spell you used, because that first blow packed a punch. I didn’t hear you say anyth—“

 

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone before you listen?” Lily burst out. Her grip on the knife was white-knuckled. “It’s bad enough that you humiliate me in front of the whole school without a single word of apology, but now you’re trying to get me blamed for a fight that we were _all_ a part of?”

 

James blinked. “You wouldn’t let me apologize. The end of all last year I asked to talk to you—“

 

“To gloat, and say I told you so! I’m not going to listen to that shit from you, Potter. Not last year, and not today.” And, to Lily’s shame, she couldn’t fully hold back the tears from sounding in her voice.

 

“I _am_ sorry,” James said. The student at neighboring tables had stopped working (not that Sirius had ever started). “I was sorry from the moment it ended like that. I never meant for you to get hurt—“

 

“But you meant it for Sev, didn’t you? And that’s the problem, you and your little posse, you go around hurting people because you think they deserve it—“

 

“I don’t understand how you can be so blind to the fact that he does deserve it! Listen to what he called you, look at what he’s said about Moony!” James had gotten rid of his apologetic stance the minute Lily had mentioned Snape by name, and now the potions of eavesdropping students were so neglected that they were starting to spit acrid smelling sparks. 

 

“This has nothing to do with Remus!” Lily practically shouted. “It has to do with you! And if you think—“

 

“What I _think_ is that he’s a conniving little—“

 

“And you wonder why I don’t want to talk to you!” Lily burst out, so loud that Slughorn looked up from the ingredients he was organizing in the back of the room. Lily started gathering up her finely (and aggressively) chopped root. “Let’s just work, yeah?” 

 

“Fine.” James snapped, suddenly sullen.

 

They worked until their potion was perfect, ladling it into a vial and waiting for Slughorn to come collect it. “I _am_ sorry,” James said again. When Lily didn’t respond, he rubbed his eyes under his glasses, face weary. “Fine. Just don’t say I never said it.” 

 

It was just then that Slughorn bustled up, admiring the potions and declaring it “fine work as usual.” By the time Lily looked up, James was gone. 

 

Dorcas linked her arm with Lily’s as they climbed the stairs to the Common Room. “That was eventful,” she remarked, squeezing Lily’s arm. “But I’m sure it doesn’t hold a candle to the stuff that Clarence Adams has got up to in class, especially since he’s got a free ticket out of detention when Carlisle’s wearing that badge.”

 

Lily smiled, just as weary as James. “Tell me about it, Dor.” 

 

* * *

**we didn’t start the fire**

 

“There’s no way she performed a spell that powerful without a shout.” 

 

“I’m telling you, Padfoot, it was Evans! She even got all squeamish when I asked her about it.”

 

Remus groaned. “You didn’t.”

 

The Marauders sat in their dormitory with a pile of Chocolate Frogs in between them. Their first night of school ritual had been interrupted by Sirius’ refusal of treatment and subsequent quarantine in the Hospital Wing, and had been rescheduled for, understandably, the second night of school. The celebration mostly consisted of gorging themselves on leftover trolley candy (some stolen, some purchased) and getting trashed (a ritual only observed in more recent years). This time, they’d missed the trolley being unfairly imprisoned, and Remus had to break into his personal stash of chocolate. He was already in a bit of a mood to begin with, and this didn’t exactly help. 

 

“You fucking ass, you actually went up to her and asked if she exploded a train?” Remus threw a wrapper across the circle at James. “Why am I friends with such wankers?”

 

“I know it was Evans. I’m positive.” 

 

“To be fair,” Sirius added, “the train didn’t explode. It was just a couple of interior windows, nothing too exciting.” 

 

“I know it was Evans!” James waved around a picture of Merlin (the 27th Merlin in James’ Frog collection) for emphasis. “Mulciber wouldn’t have done it. There’s too many of us, and he’s a pussy.”

 

“I agree with you on one of those theories, mate,” Sirius announced, handing his bottle of firewhiskey to Peter. “I’m all for exposing Mulciber. But Evans, explode school property? Even if it was just interior windows, that’s still not like her.” 

 

“Don’t forget when she punched Avery so hard he had to get a tooth fixed with Madam Dearborn, or the pure number of times she’s hexed me just for telling her she looks fit in a sweater,” James countered. “She’s not the princess everyone makes her out to be—“

 

“Why are we arguing about this again?” Peter tried (and failed) to whisper. 

 

“Because our dear Prongs is in love with a certain redheaded vixen who will never give him the time of day,” Sirius said in a singsong voice. “And he can’t help himself from getting close enough to stare down her shirt.” 

 

“Fight or no fight, you two really are going to explode the entire castle at some point.” Remus bit the head off a frog vehemently. 

 

James, in retaliation, shoved Remus hard. “I’ll bet you ten galleons we’re friends sometime this year.” 

 

“What’s the definition of ‘friends?’” Peter asked, his words beginning to slur. 

 

“No more yelling matches,” Remus began, and James groaned. “You have to hang out together for reasons that aren’t school. You have to be on a first name basis.” 

 

“And,” Sirius added, glint in his eye, “when we ask her, on New Years Eve, if you two are friends, she had to say yes with some measure of conviction.” 

 

“Wormtail, can you draw up the terms?” Remus asked, more smug than he had any right to be. 

 

James blanched. “Hold on, it was a theoretical bet—“

 

“I invoke section three, clause six of the Code! The minute you include a price, the bet is real,” Sirius crowed. James groaned and slumped onto the floor, looking utterly exasperated and not altogether in control of himself. 

 

The rest of the night was spent hunched over a roll of parchment, creating rules and singing them into effect.

 

* * *

** the bet **

Participants: Moony (challenger), Prongs (challenged)

 

Wager: James Fleamont Potter will be friends with Lily Marie Evans by 12am on January the First, Nineteen Thousand and Seventy Seven

 

Amount: 10 galleons

 

Stipulations: Lily Marie Evans and James Fleamont Potter must have ceased all shouting matches for two weeks prior, interact outside of forced situations, call each other by their given first names, and (when asked), Lily Marie Evans must call James Fleamont Potter her friend with notable conviction

 

Signatures:

Prongs ________________

Moony ________________

 

(“D’you have to write my middle name so often? It’s awful.”)

 

(“Mine is Orion, stop complaining. At least your first name is regular.”)

 

(“Do you even have a plan of action for how in the world you’re going to pull this off?”)

 

(“Yeah. I’m going to confront her about the fight, learn all her secrets, and then we’re going to get married on a beach. Piece of fucking cake.”) 


	2. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the beginning of the beginning of the story turns into the middle of the beginning of the story. the mid-exposé, if you will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for eating disorders, there's just small mentions in this chapter but i thought i'd let you know (also there's blood and explosions and angst)

** the plan **

 

It was two weeks until Lily talked to James again. All that was left of the fight on the train was a small pink scar curling over Lily’s eyebrow, and even Lily herself had forgotten about it most days. And then a spell would burst out of her wand a little too quickly in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and she’d have to take a minute and breathe.

 

Marlene didn’t notice, but Lily sometimes caught James’ eye from across the classroom. All she could do in response was glare. 

 

“Why does he keep looking at you like that?” Dorcas asked as they walked to lunch, noting the searching gaze James had fixed on Lily as she packed up her books. Mary caught up to them from her time in Care of Magical Creatures and smoothed back her hair. The girls fell into step.

 

“He’s not looking at me like anything, Dor. And I don’t see why you keep talking about him.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to hug herself and instead to look fierce and independent. She failed. 

 

“He _is_ being strange,” Marlene remarked. “Doesn’t even say a proper hello to you in the hallways anymore.”

 

“Not like he used to, anyway,” Mary muttered.

 

“Which was like what?” Lily tried to demand, but instead it came out defensive and a little too high pitched. 

 

Mary grinned. “Like he wants to cover you in whipped cream and lick—“ 

 

“Oi! Potter!” Marlene yelled, turning around to face the Marauders as they walked to dinner behind the girls. “How come you’re ignoring Lily all of a sudden?” 

 

“She knows why,” he said, almost caught up to them. Bloody long legs. 

 

“I don’t, actually,” Lily snapped. Failing again to look tough, she hugged herself a little bit tighter as the group of boys strolled up behind her. “But I’m not exactly complaining.” 

 

James snorted. “Don’t play dumb, Evans. It’s beneath you.” Remus made to grab James’ arm but he jerked away. The usual mirth in his eyes that accompanied their fights was gone, replaced with something Lily couldn’t quite place.

 

“I would’ve thought you wanted me to stoop to your level, Potter.” Lily said, playing coy. She could hear Mary sniggering softly in front of her.

 

“I’m not trying to make this into a battle of wits, I’m only asking for the truth,” James said. Lily stopped in her tracks.

 

“What truth?” Marlene asked. “Lily—“

 

“All right, girls, I’m starving. Let’s all keep moving towards dinner,” Sirius said quickly, sliding Dorcas and Marlene under each arm and leading them away. Lily didn’t budge, and neither did Mary, who seemed to be gathering her courage by screwing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath. “Aren’t you coming, MacDonald?” 

 

“No thank you. I’m afraid I don’t think the sun rises and sets out of your asshole like the rest of our year,” Mary said, surprisingly cheerily and at an unusually loud volume. Remus looked like Christmas had come early, and Dorcas didn’t even pretend to look offended. Lily could recall around 50 declarations of her love for Sirius Black’s hair declared in their dormitory, and probably more about his abs (which he could never seem to keep underneath a shirt, it seemed). 

 

“You can go ahead without me, Mary. I seem to have lost my appetite,” Lily said flatly. She had finally identified the look in James’ eye, and it meant that this time, he really wasn’t doing this all in good fun. Lily wasn’t quite sure she liked it. 

 

Peter, who had always been one of Mary’s better friends, managed to quietly cajole her into leaving Lily in the Entrance Hall with James. 

 

“You’d think, with all those friends of yours, it’d be harder to get you alone,” James said after several moments of terse silence. 

 

Lily kept her arms folded, her posture defensive. “You know Marlene is weak around dinnertime, and Dorcas has never said no to Sirius. And, anyways, you’ve always seemed hell-bent on reminding me how rubbish I am at choosing friends.”

 

“Here it goes again.” 

 

* * *

**pudding**

 

There was a treacle tart on the table before Mary was worried enough to speak up. “They’re not back yet.” 

 

“Think they’ve found a broom closet?” Dorcas asked, mouth bulging. “Ten knuts says they have.” 

 

Sirius whistled. “Meadowes, please. Nobody in their right mind would bet over as little as ten knuts. No risk no reward, I thought you of all people would understand.” 

 

“Nope,” Dorcas said, blushing and reaching for another treacle tart, “just poor. Not all of us are old money, Black.” A muscle went in Sirius’ jaw. “Shit. Sorry.” 

 

“It’s okay,” Remus said, thumping Sirius’ back. “Our boy has a rich uncle financing his lifestyle, he’s not wanting for anything.” 

 

Marlene laughed. “A rich _dead_ uncle. And if my Auntie Cressida is to be believed, old Alphard’s money was won scamming her out of an illegal creatures trade. Something about a Chimera, I think.” 

 

The plates had started disappearing, along with the dinner crowd. “Now I’m worried,” Marlene muttered to Mary as the chatter continued, abandoning her inquiry into the illegal creatures trade. Peter said something about his father’s habit of keeping Grindylows in tanks. 

 

“You always reclaim your head when you’re full,” Mary shot back. “We shouldn’t have left her there in the first place, you know how she gets when he’s around. Especially lately.” 

 

“What are you muttering about?” Sirius asked from across the table. “Is it James? It’s fine, they’re probably still yelling at each other.” 

 

Mary shook her head. “Lily doesn’t miss meals. Ever.” 

 

“What d’you mean?” Peter asked, putting his fork down. His plate vanished with half his pudding left, and he grimaced. “She has to have missed some. For studying, or sleeping late.” 

 

“Or talking to very handsome blokes,” Sirius cut in.

 

“No,” Marlene said slowly, looking around at the almost empty tables. “She had a thing Third Year, and now—“

 

“She comes to every meal. If only for a couple of minutes, to eat something small and say hello.” Mary looked Sirius dead in the eye. “Where would they have gone?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Sirius said, still not convinced. “It’s not as though I own him.” Dorcas raised an eyebrow. 

 

“You three can check the grounds and we’ll look in the Common Room. Meet in the Entrance Hall when you’re done, just to check back?” Remus looked around at all the nodding heads, lingering on Mary’s increasingly pale face. Everyone was thinking of they way they’d founder her, crumpled underneath the doors of the castle. 

 

Once the girls had left the Great Hall, Sirius pulled the map out of his bag. “Aren’t they being a bit paranoid? The girl can skip one meal, it’s not going to—“

 

Remus coughed. “D’you remember Third Year, when she fainted during Astronomy?”

 

“Yeah. Dearborn said it was exhaustion, something about—“

 

“She didn’t used to eat. She’d make up some excuse she couldn’t come to meals, or else she’d sit at the table and talk without eating.” Remus pulled out his want. “And now she always comes, so her friends won’t worry she’s bad again. I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.” 

 

Ink spread over the parchment with a flourish, and Sirius couldn’t help but feel the usual flip of pride in his stomach, even when hearing about Lily. “Cissy used to do that.” 

 

“What, not eat?” Peter asked absentmindedly as he scanned the map with Remus. 

 

“Yeah. People used to ask her when she’d be as pretty as Andromeda, and she would—doesn’t matter anyways.” Sirius jabbed a finger at the map. “There. Third floor, east corridor.” 

 

“Are they walking around or something?” Peter asked, watching the dots and squinting. “ _Really_ slowly?”

 

Remus shook the map a bit, as though it would startle the dots into action. “Why aren’t they moving?” 

 

* * *

**the brawl, part II**

 

“Why don’t we get out of the Entrance Hall?” James asked. Lily huffed. “We’re going to talk about this, and if you want it to be here then by all means—“ 

 

“Fine. We can walk.” 

 

They moved in silence up the stairs, and then around into the first corridor Lily found suitable enough to stomp through. Of course he was too stubborn to speak first, even though he was the one who insisted they talk. Lily was furious. “Thanks, drag me all the way up here and then say nothing at all. That’s really helpful.” 

 

“Why won’t you tell me what happened? Not to McGonagall, just to me, or even Mary?” James asked, almost infuriatingly calm. “What are you so afraid of?”

 

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, Potter—“ 

 

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m not going to argue with you. Evans, what went down on the train took an insane amount of power. Enough to shatter windows and hit Mulciber so hard it took 3 potions to revive him. Why won’t you admit it?”

 

Lily clenched her fists. “Nobody knows who started that fight.” 

 

“I do.” James stepped forward, his eyes level on Lily’s. “I know.” 

 

“You don’t know anything!” Lily burst out, and the oil lamp above her head shattered. She bent over quickly, started scooping up glass as fast as she could. “That wasn’t me, it wasn’t. Someone must’ve thrown a gobstone or—“ 

 

“What’s going on?” James asked, finally letting himself run a hand through his hair. “There’s something wrong. You denying it isn’t going to help anything.” 

 

Lily felt her fist contract involuntarily the way she always did when James was around, and felt a prick of pain from a glass shard piercing her palm. “Nothing’s the matter.” 

 

“You have to stop pretending this isn’t happening,” James insisted, his voice growing in volume. Lily almost smiled. This was what she needed. Everything had been so tightly wound for weeks, and she just needed to let go—

 

“Everything is fine, Potter.” 

 

“Why won’t you let me help you?” 

 

“How have you ever helped before? By trying to charm up my skirt, or hexing everybody I’ve ever talked to, or torturing my best friend—“ 

 

“I didn’t make him say those things—“ 

 

“It doesn’t matter what you _didn’t_ do—“ 

 

“You have to stop—“

 

“Don’t tell me what to do—”

 

“You can’t save him!” James shouted. And then the corridor exploded. 

 

* * *

**ash and dust**

 

Sirius got there first. He’d always had long legs, always been the tallest, and anyways Remus had gone to get the girls. So, he got there first. Alone. And all he saw was rubble.

 

THINGS SIRIUS BLACK THOUGHT OF DOING WHEN HE ARRIVED ON THE SCENE:

1) Calling for help. Not executed for disciplinary reasons. 

2) Digging through the rocks with his hands until he found what he was looking for. Not executed because he remembered he was a wizard, goddamnit. 

3) Spelling the largest sections of wall away as carefully as he could. Executed until he saw the edges of a shield charm keeping the debris away from Lily and James. 

 

James let the Shield Charm drop just as footsteps could be heard moving purposefully down the corridor. “What the hell happened?” Dorcas asked when she came into sight of what used to be the corridor walls. 

 

Sirius leaned back against a patch of wall that was still standing, sinking to the floor. “I’d also like to know the answer to that question.” 

 

Lily, who’d been sitting cross-legged under the protection of James’ spell, opened her mouth to speak when James cut her off. “It was just a stupid prank. We were fighting, and I thought it was just be a laugh if I made Evans freak out a little bit. I guess I underestimated the outcome.” 

 

Sirius watched as Mary walked right up to James and slapped him across the face. “You almost got her killed for a stupid prank? In a place where she’s supposed to feel—“

 

“Mary!” Marlene shouted. “Don’t yell at him, he obviously didn’t mean for it to go like this.” 

 

“They never do, do they?” Mary spat, turning on her heel and taking off down the corridor. Dorcas gave a James a long, searching look before running after Mary. 

 

The six of them that were left looked around for a bit at the impressive amount of rubble, Sirius beginning to dust himself off. “It’s good you two walked so far away from the Great Hall, otherwise McGonagall’d have your head,” Remus told James, helping Sirius pull rubble off of his jumper. “No harm no foul, mate, there’s no need to look so horrified.” James nodded with a weary sort of smile. Lily looked as though she might burst into tears at any moment. 

 

“Let’s get out of here,” Marlene said gently, steering Lily back to the dormitory. They cast a lopsided and poorly coordinated shadow as Marlene propped up a drooping Lily.

 

“We’re walking in the same direction,” Peter realized aloud. “Do we go now or do we wait a few minutes so it’s not weird?” 

 

They waited. 

 

* * *

**the astronomy tower**

 

Dorcas caught up to Mary when they were halfway up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, and no amount of out-of-breath pleading would convince her to come down. Or, as Dorcas eventually started suggesting, just sit down right there on the steps and have a good heart to heart. But Mary had her way, and the girls ended up under the open archways, looking over the grounds and up into the stars. 

 

“Now that we’re here, will you tell me what’s wrong?” Dorcas asked. Her voice was tentative in in front of the immensity of the pinprick sky. 

 

Mary had already sunk down onto the floor and gathered her knees to her chest. “How am I supposed to trust anyone?” she asked. Dorcas felt a physical ache start up in her chest. “They’re still here, Dor, just wandering the castle like it never happened. And it would be so easy, if they wanted to… but we just left Lily there, without a second thought.” 

 

“She was with James,” Dorcas countered. “He would never—“

 

“I have no idea what he’d do,” Mary said, but where Dorcas expected anger she got only quiet. “People who have been here for six years, who’ve known me since I was eleven, tell me every day they want me dead. And nobody ever saw it coming, when they… If that can happen here where I’m supposed to be safe, who knows what else is a lie?” 

 

“Not this,” Dorcas said, almost too earnest. Mary took her chin off her knee, though, and Dorcas knew she was onto something. “You can’t sit up here and question every relationship you’ve ever had, Mare. It’ll drive you absolutely mad. So you have to understand that Mulciber and his friends are fucking supremacists, and while saying the war hasn’t infiltrated Hogwarts is a lie, doubting your friends isn’t the way to fix that. They’re fighting for the wrong side, and we’re fighting for the right one.”

 

Mary allowed the hint of a smile to cross her face. “Are you done with the inspirational bullshit now? 

 

“Only if you’re down to snuggle, it’s bloody cold out here and there’s no way I’m making it back down those stairs.” Dorcas settled in beside Mary and curled around her side like a cat. 

 

* * *

**the boys dormitory**

 

The Marauders ended up, as they so often did, sitting in a circle on the floor and surrounding a pile of sweets like it was an offering. 

 

“Everything’s just got so fucked, you know?” James was saying, biting the head off a chocolate frog. “When did it get like this?” 

 

Sirius grabbed James’ card and grunted, tossing a protesting Agrippa into the bin. “Everything was fucked before, you just weren’t paying attention.” 

 

The ceiling thumped, and all four boys looked up at what must’ve been the Third Years above them, playing some sort of game. It went without saying that they didn’t jump around like that anymore. Now it was all foot long scrolls of parchment and talk of war in voices just soft enough so the younger kids didn’t hear. 

 

“Are you going to tell us what went on with Lily?” Remus asked slowly, obviously gauging James’ reaction. Nobody was sure if Remus’ caution was for the promised 10 galleons or genuine concern. It was probably a little bit of both. 

 

James picked at the carpet. “She didn’t start the fight,” he said, quietly but with a certainty that made it impossible for anyone to object. “And then… I don’t know, I hadn’t pulled anything in a while. I thought it would be funny, I didn’t know the whole bloody corridor would explode.” James got up and cleared his throat, taking off his glasses. “We have classes in the morning.”

 

“You’re feeding us this bullshit?” Sirius burst out. “Don’t try and tell me this was all a big mistake! I thought you were—“

 

“Give me a bit more credit than that, Padfoot,” James said wearily. “I wasn’t going to die because of an exploding corridor.” He drew the curtains shut around his four-poster, leaving an angry looking Sirius behind. 

 

The room was quiet as Sirius tried to absorb the events of the night. He’d always been cynical, he noted as he headed down to the Common Room. But about the state of the world, the whole of it, not about what would happen to his friends as a result. The familiar weight resting in Sirius’ pocket seemed to get heavier, and he reached inside and rubbed his fingers the well-worn silver surface. 

 

The family locket was garish, big and heavy with precious stones forming an ornate crest on one side. It had come into Sirius’ possession before his parents had realized they would one day blast his name off their tapestry, and Sirius remembered his father coming as close as he ever had to a smile as he pressed it into Sirius’ hand right before his first ride on the Hogwarts Express. It passed from heir to heir, he’d explained, and what it held inside was not a picture but something to live up to. Sirius’ parents, for all he’d disappointed them, had not yet asked for the locket back. 

 

Sirius worked his thumb over the surface. It wasn’t James who put this sick feeling in his stomach, though Sirius was painfully aware that was where he placed most of his aggression. It was, instead, what the war was doing to James. What it was doing to all of them.

 

It was then that Dorcas and Mary burst through the Portrait Hole, giggling loud enough to wake up some Second Years dozing over a game of gobstones. “We saw Mrs. Norris,” Dorcas wheezed, clutching her side, “and we just fucking ran.” 

 

“Where were you in the first place?” Sirius asked, his locket safely in his pocket again. He ran his mind over how long the four of them had sat in their dormitory, eating sweets and avoiding talk about James’ stunt in the corridor. “You two ran off ages ago.” 

 

Mary managed to compose herself after a few deep breaths. “The kitchens, the Astronomy Tower, the boy’s toilets—“ and then she burst out laughing again.

 

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Merlin, MacDonald, you’d best have a better story in case Filch corners you tomorrow.”

 

Dorcas lurched forward suddenly, grabbing Sirius’ undone tie. “We’ve been here for ages, trying to get you to help us with our Transfiguration.”

 

“I’m rubbish at Transfiguration, but yeah. That’s better.” He grinned when Dorcas realized how close her face had gotten to his own. “Much better.” 

 

Mary’s giggles turned to snorts when Dorcas turned roughly the color of beets. Sirius thought, maybe, everything would be just fine. 

 

* * *

**give me shelter**

 

James spent his evening behind the curtains of his four-poster, reliving every moment of his time under the shield charm. It was, he thought, one of the defining moments of his life, ranking with the moment he joined the Gryffindors for his first start of term feast, the first time he’d turned into a stag, and the time Lily had inadvertently introduced him to the Beatles when she put on her record collection at a party.

 

UNDER THE BUBBLE: James had a theory that there were some situations where the tension was so thick even a slicing charm couldn’t cut through it. The first moments under the charm were a perfect example.

 

Lily was bleeding. She wouldn’t let James near the cut, cradling her hand to her chest and curling into a ball. “I brought this on myself,” she kept saying softly to James whenever he made to move closer. James, who was trying to muster up an ounce of patience that would let him get through another one of these admissions of self loathing, failed. 

 

“This,” he said finally, gesturing wildly, “is not the sort of thing you do to yourself. It’s magic! It’s a part of you, and of everyone else here.” 

 

Lily’s resignation turned quickly into something resembling anger. “I can’t control myself. I keep blowing shit up and endangering lives, and you’re still talking about magic like it’s a gift?” 

 

No, James thought, taking in the wild look behind Lily’s eyes. This wasn’t anger. It was desperation. 

 

“When did you stop believing magic is something to be proud of?” James asked after the silence had yet again sealed over them. She’d always walked around school like she loved it, like she never wanted to be anywhere else. James even knew that she stayed at the castle for holidays. He couldn’t comprehend the doubt. Magic, he surmised, was like breathing. 

 

“We didn’t all get waited on hand and foot before Hogwarts,” Lily said scathingly. “I didn’t get my letter delivered to me on a silver platter.” 

 

James sighed, loud enough to make Lily roll her eyes. “I’m not going to fight with you right now, Evans. We tried that and it didn’t exactly work.” 

 

Lily shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “D’you know about my sister?” 

 

“You have a sister?” James asked, incredulous. “Where? How? Since when?”

 

“Yeah, Petunia. She’d’ve just graduated, had she gone here. But she’s not magic, and ever since I found out I can make flowers bloom she’s hated me for it.” 

 

James bristled, then felt the shield charm nudge his mind and he regained his calm sense of focus. “That sucks.” 

 

“Yeah,” Lily said. “It does. But I don’t know why I’m telling you about it, it’s not like you’ve been any better. You’ve been nothing but a prick to me for years.” 

 

“I take offense to that statement. Nobody’s denying I was arrogant, but I was also thirteen years old and nobody took the time to tell me I was a piece of shit. And as for lately, I don’t think confronting you about a, frankly, obvious—“ James looked pointedly around at their little bubble “—problem can be interpreted as me being a dick.” 

 

Lily dropped her chin back to her knees. “I want you to fight with me or shut up, and you aren’t doing either.” 

 

“You’re always looking for a fight,” James said, exasperation tinging his voice. “You’re worse than Sirius.” 

 

“Because I don’t want to talk civilly about this! If we talk about it like that, it’s…”

 

“You can’t pretend it doesn’t exist anymore?” James finished. Lily nodded, clearly miserable, and James couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “Look how ridiculous this situation already is. It wouldn’t be hard to add to the scene by talking to me without shouting.” 

 

Lily hid her small smile behind her tightly crossed elbows. “This still isn’t as bad as the train.” 

 

“So it happens when you’re mad, then?” James asked. Lily slowly unfolded herself and spread her hands out in front of her.

 

“Or when I’m frustrated. Like in lessons, I’ll get an itchy feeling in my hands. It’s as though my skin is going to burst, and I can’t do anything right. The next time I use magic, it feels… It feels like I’ve just punched something, but in all the good ways.” Lily examined her cut, the way the shattered glass made her palm glimmer. “I think it’s because we all use magic like it’s nothing, like it’s not this big miracle like I always thought. And… I guess I don’t really want it anymore.”

 

The sick feeling that had been in James’ stomach since the lamp exploded lurched horribly. “You don’t want to be magic?”

 

“Would you?” Lily burst out. “Would you,” she said, quieter, “want to be using the thing that tore apart your family every day for nothing?” 

 

“So your sister doesn’t approve—“ James started, and Lily’s expression turned murderous. 

 

“So my sister hasn’t spoken to me in years, so I almost starved myself trying to get her approval, so my mum got sick and died before I could get home to say goodbye! So the fact that I’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice to be here makes me somehow lesser than everyone else! So what? I should still be happy to be here, even after what magic has done to me, and Mary, and every other Muggleborn here?” Lily took in a ragged breath, tears flowing from her eyes without any pretense of sobs. “Don’t ‘so what’ me. You don’t know anything about what it’s like.”

 

“You’re right. I don’t. But you wouldn’t even _tell_ me,” James said, fighting down the lump in his throat. “I know you used to tell Snape. And I’ll never be done apologizing for whatever part I had in ending that relationship. But you’re one of the most talented witches I’ve ever met. You can do things most of us can’t even dream of, so to say you don’t want your magic is the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. It’s a part of you, and you can’t pretend it doesn’t exist.”

 

Lily let out a watery sort of laugh. “I can try.”

 

“You don’t have to talk to me,” James said quickly, even though every part of his body was telling him to shut his mouth. “Just talk to someone.” 

 

“It’s too late now, we’ve already gotten this far,” Lily admitted wearily. “And it’s not like I ever liked you, so saddling you with all my baggage shouldn’t make me the least bit guilty.” 

 

James had the strange urge to grin, although none of what was happening was at all funny. “I’m really sorry this is happening to you,” he said to compensate for the odd feeling of elation that was colonizing his stomach. “And I’m sorry that people of my birth are using it as an excuse.”

 

“Apology accepted. Now, d’you have any emotional baggage you want to lay on _me_? I’d hate to feel as though this relationship is one sided.” 

 

BACK IN JAMES’ FOUR-POSTER: James was still in a bit of shock at the ease with which they had talked after that, ease which had ended when Sirius popped their soap bubble by Vanishing boulders. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lily had reached for him in the stale air under the charm, and the way she’d slotted their fingers together and whispered that she was afraid of telling anyone else.

 

And so the whole thing became a prank, and James got slapped in the face, and all he could think about was when she would talk to him again. He’d thought, before, that he couldn’t possibly like her any more than he did, that the ache in his heart when he saw her was the worst it could possibly get. But the ache was permanent now, deeper. He couldn’t fall asleep because he was so aware of its presence. 

 

IN A FOUR-POSTER MUCH LIKE JAMES’: Lily lay quietly, in a minor case of shock. Severus had given her magic, and then he took it away in a single breath. And yet it wasn’t his words Lily heard (as she had for the past four months), but James apologizing, telling her none of her magic was a mistake. His voice rang through her head, no matter how hard she pressed her pillow to her ears. And then, no matter how scared it made her, she had to admit that the sound of his voice made the pressure in her chest subside. 

 

She wanted (grudgingly) to talk to him again. To tell him more, to further lighten the leaden feeling of her body. And, the most frightening: she wanted to listen. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to get this out there right away!!!!! so i'd have two chapters out and incentives to post more at a later date. well anyways hope you liked them


	3. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i think the most important plotpoint of this chapter is neither the character development nor the changing relationships, but the fact that remus lupin goes sledding and (most importantly) wildly enjoys himself

** day turns to day **

 

The days following the Halloween feast, while slightly tense, had a sense of normalcy that allowed everyone in the castle to breath a little easier. Nothing was exploding, or screaming, and James had even eased up on the Quidditch schedule. Lily and Remus could be seen dropping James and Sirius off at their detentions, Mary was once again tutoring Peter in Divination (“you’ve just got to make it _sound_ ominous”), and Marlene and Dorcas had taken up vandalizing the toilets again. It felt, for all intents and purposes, like any other year at Hogwarts. Except that Lily kept sneaking of to “study” the same evenings James claimed to be having a nice long soak, leaving Sirius and Marlene with nothing to do but scheme (everyone else, it seemed, were too busy living their own lives).

 

“D’you reckon they’re shagging?” Sirius asked under his breath, watching James laugh at one of Dorcas’ jokes. He was sat next to Lily, and they hadn’t had a go at each other at all during the course of dinner. “I would’ve thought James would tell me, but some things a bloke likes private, you know?”

 

Marlene furrowed her brow. “Can’t be, girls have no sense of honor on that front. Lily’d have told at least one of us.” 

 

Mary started waving a teacup in front of Peter’s nose. “You have to pick a generic shape, see, and just memorize what it means!”

 

“What about tutoring, then?” Sirius suggested, then shook his head immediately. “Or… flying lessons?” 

 

Marlene prodded her potatoes angrily. “Isn’t this the sort of thing we should be able to figure out? C’mon, Black, you’re a walking Hogwarts legend and I—“

 

“Being fit doesn’t make you a good detective.” 

 

“I was going to say that I was your partner in crime until you met that speccy git on the train,” Marlene said, nose in the air. “But I’ll have you know that boys aren’t very good at keeping their mouths shut when I’m around.” 

 

Sirius grinned. “I seem to recall _you_ leaving me to find a compartment by myself after Jeremy Taft offered to let you pet his horny toad.”

 

“You say that like it’s dirty, but he was genuinely excited to show it to me! You shouldn’t poke fun—“

 

“If anyone offers you their horny toad I’ll be the first person to have a go,” Sirius said, waggling his eyebrows. Marlene couldn’t help but giggle, which she compensated for by giving him a swift punch. “Merlin, McKinnon, ease up! Can’t keep the bludgers away with my arm in this state.” 

 

James’ head perked up immediately. “What did I just hear about Sirius’ arms?” 

 

“Only that if he lets his head get any bigger he’ll need them as support,” Marlene said brightly. Dorcas promptly shot pumpkin juice out of her nose. 

 

So November, while progressing rather ordinarily, was almost aggressive in its normalcy. It was punctuated by interesting lessons, which didn’t stop the crushing load of work but instead made it slightly more interesting. Peter was caught trying to nick some Felix Felicis and spent almost every evening for two weeks in detention. Sirius and Marlene, who found it impossible to snoop, resorted to asking Lily and James separately about their odd disappearances. 

 

“I’m going to study, I told you,” Lily said irritably on her way out of the Common Room. “And why would I know where Potter spends any of his time?” 

 

Sirius got much the same story from James: “I’m not a stalker, mate. I’ve no idea what she’s up to.” 

 

The truth was that they could be found in the library, bent of obscure books of magical theory, talking each other’s ears off. 

 

“I learned a bit about genetics in science, before I came to Hogwarts—“

 

“Science? What in the name of Merlin is that?” James asked incredulously, earning a dirty look from the librarian. 

 

Lily snorted. “I sometimes forget how uneducated they keep you lot. Science is like— see, if you just think…”

 

“Oh, yeah, they keep _us_ uneducated,” James retorted. “Says the girl who hasn’t heard of the Chamber of Secrets until _I_ told her!“

 

“It’s a way of looking at things and learning what makes them work,” Lily said, half exasperated. “Genetics is all about what you inherit from your parents—-physically, James, not money and stuff—and figuring out how or why.”

 

James pretended to yawn, looking back down at the book in front of him pointedly. “And that interests me why?”

 

“Well the first ever genetic experiments talk about how some people can carry a trait—“ Lily snatched James’ hand away from the book and shut the cover. “ _Listen_ , please, or else you’re going to ask about it later and I’m not explaining it twice. Think about it like this: has anyone ever told you that you look like your grandfather?” 

 

“Not me, but Sirius gets it all the time, it drives him mad—“

 

“But Sirius doesn’t look anything like his father, does he?” Lily said knowingly.

 

James thought for a moment. “So you’re saying that Sirius’ whatevers… they’re in his dad, they’re just not visible?”

 

“That’s the basics, yeah. So if you think about magic like that, like it’s just a recessive gene, then I’ve got just as much magic in my blood as anyone else.” Lily sucked on the end of her sugar quill looking satisfied with herself. “I wish they taught science at this bloody school.” 

 

“You know what they do teach?” James asked, opening up his book again. “Charms, and if we want to get this essay done we’d better start looking things up.” 

 

Lily pointed her wand at the dusty pages and they parted right on the information James had been painstakingly researching for the better part of half an hour. “Now can we talk about Carlisle Adams’ sport coat at the last Slug Club party?” she said, a cheeky sort of grin spreading across her face.

 

“Well after Sluggy told him the only person he could contact at the Ministry for a good word was in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, I think he was trying to show some enthusiasm…”

 

When they arrived back in the Common Room an hour later, Marlene and Sirius met them on the couch with their arms folded. James couldn’t help laughing.

 

“What’s so funny?” Sirius demanded. “We just want to know what’s really going on with all this dodgy behavior!”

 

“What were you two doing out so late?” Marlene asked, her resemblance to McGonagall astonishing. 

 

Lily checked the clock. “It’s only half past eight, and I told you I was studying.”

 

Sirius cleared his throat. “James said he was having a bath.” 

 

“And then I went to study after,” James said incredulously. Marlene raised an eyebrow. “For the love of Merlin, do you want to sniff me?”

 

“I don’t need to get any closer to smell the lies on you,” Sirius said haughtily, looking more ridiculous than dramatic. “You’d both do well to go up to bed, then, if you won’t tell the truth.” 

 

“It’s only half past!” Lily burst out, indignant. Dorcas, sitting by the fire, was laughing and braiding Mary’s hair. “I’m going over to sit with Dorcas,” she announced, giving James a nod before glaring at Sirius.

 

“They think you’re up to something,” Dorcas said as Lily sat down, still fuming.

 

Mary snorted. “By ‘something,’ she means shagging.” Dorcas gave her hair a particularly sharp tug. “Ow!”

 

“That’s what you get for being tactless,” Dorcas muttered. When she turned to face Lily, her face brightened. “So?” 

 

“No!” Lily scoffed, a bit too quickly. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. He’s apologized for that thing in the corridor, and he ran into me when we were both working on Flitwick’s essay. It’s really nothing.” 

 

Mary rolled her eyes. “Two weeks ago you were saying if you saw a Boggart it would look like him trying to chat you up, and now, after one apology, you’re pals? I’m not going to pry or anything, but it’s a bit too much to swallow.” 

 

Dorcas tied off Mary’s hair and started running her hands through Lily’s. “Marlene’s had a lot going on lately, what with Adam in training and Professor Comestock’s extra runes he’s set for anyone trying to be a Curse Breaker… I reckon she feels like a bit too much in her life is changing without her permission and she’d like you to stay the same.”

 

The press of nails on Lily’s scalp felt wonderful, and she snuck a glance over to where James sat on the arm of the couch Sirius and Marlene had taken over. “When did you get so smart, Dor?” she asked softly.

 

“Being the Meadowes family therapist is a full time job,” Dorcas said. “And nobody likes change.” 

 

“Tell me about it,” Lily muttered, soft enough so only she could hear. Sirius and Marlene were quite obviously pressing James details about his evening, and he had just said something that had made them roar with laughter. “I sometimes feel like there’s not enough time, and I’m drowning,” she said, this time loud enough for Dorcas and Mary to hear. 

 

Dorcas pressed a kiss to Lily’s hair, and Mary smirked. “We Muggleborns are resourceful,” she said. “We know how to use lifeboats.”

 

Across the Common Room, James laughed.

* * *

**the best time of the year**

 

In the last class before the Christmas Holidays, Flitwick handed back their essays. Peter’s was set down with its usual dismayed sniff, and Sirius achieved a passing grade despite having written half a foot less than was required (“if their expectations are low to begin with, basically anything exceeds them”). Flitwick handed Dorcas’ back, remarking that she might not have gotten an P if she’d spent less time in class talking about Quidditch and instead actually done her work. 

 

But, when stopped in front of James, Flitwick was nearly beside himself when he presented a roll of parchment with a large ‘O’ at the top. Lily flashed he matching letter at him from across the class, and they wore their doublewide grins all the way to the Christmas Feast that evening. 

 

It was certainly a celebration of class’s end, and the Sixth Year section of the Gryffindor table was arguably the loudest in the Hall. They were shouting and laughing throwing bits of food, and Marlene kept yelling “I SURVIVED” above the din, heedless of McGonagall’s stern looks. 

 

Everyone was going home for the holidays, and it took Mary the better part of dessert to explain skiing to Sirius. “Why would anyone be mad enough to go down a mountain on a pair of matchsticks?” he asked loudly, drowning out Mary’s groans. 

 

“Have you ever been sledding?” Lily asked finally. When Sirius shook his head, she rounded on the rest of the table. “Have none of you ever been sledding? Fuck, I can’t help you useless people.” 

 

“You could always tell us what sledding is,” Remus said helpfully, slapping Sirius’ hand away from his pudding. 

 

Mary snorted. “If we took you sledding you would probably all die.” 

 

“Isn’t sledding something kids do? How could it possibly—“ Dorcas stopped speaking abruptly, eyes watering from Mary’s well placed kick.

 

“And you boys call yourself risk takers,” Lily said, catching on and shaking her head at Sirius. “It’s really astonishing that you haven’t found Muggle extreme sports yet.” Dorcas, who had taken Muggle Studies but failed her O.W.L., looked as though she had a terrible headache. 

 

The flagon of pumpkin juice refilled itself and Sirius took a gulp without bothering to use a glass. Before Mary could ask him to keep his slutty mouth off the food, he said “I don’t suppose you have a sled with you so I can prove you all wrong?” 

 

“We aren’t allowed on the grounds and you haven’t packed yet,” Remus said, snatching the juice and performing a quick cleaning charm. Mary nodded her thanks.

 

“I don’t care!” Sirius said, startling a group of Second Years sitting sitting next to them. “I will not have my bravery insulted, especially not at Christmas—“

 

“What does Christmas have to do with this?” Marlene interjected, but Sirius persisted in spewing a speech about courage and how if they all thought he’d be heading home on the train with his tail between his legs (“If I have to deal with moping I'm going to kill someone” James added) they were absolutely insane. 

 

“We don’t think you’re cowardly, Sirius,” Peter piped up when it sounded like he was running out of steam. “It’s just really dark.” 

 

“And my mum’s rubbish at healing spells,” James said, trying hard to keep a straight face. 

 

“Ooh, that could be a problem,” Lily said, grinning at him.

 

Mary perked up. “Yeah, you could end up with no bones, or totally missing a foot! One person even got turned inside out once… we’ll be needing a pretty good Healer to sort you out, especially since it’s your first time.” 

 

“If you keep talking about how I can’t go sledding, I swear on my broomstick that I’m going to hex you so horribly you’ll wish you were-“ Sirius stopped abruptly when Lily started laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. “What’s funny?” he snapped.

 

“D’you want to do the honors, Dorcas?” Mary asked, pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice. 

 

Dorcas frowned. “See, I thought sledding was when Muggles sit on pans and slide down hills in the snow, but I’m usually wrong where they’re concerned.”

 

Remus snorted into his pudding. James wasn’t as discreet. “So like skiing, but safer?” Sirius asked. “Not extreme at all?”

 

Lily nodded, still unable to speak. Mary took a sip of her juice and made a face. “Tastes like soap,” she said, and Remus shrugged. 

 

A grin spread across Sirius’ features, and he spared a quick glance at the Staff Table to make sure McGonagall was still in deep conversation with Slughorn. “I’m still mad at you all, but honestly? This sounds like good fun, and we’re doing it. Right now. Go get your cloaks.” 

 

Lily stopped laughing. “That’s absurd. We’re going to get caught faster than-“

 

“I’m in,” James said, getting excited. “And so is Remus.” Nobody bothered to ask Peter, who was already bouncing in his seat.

 

“Come on,” Sirius was goading Dorcas. “It’s the last night before the holiday, all the teachers are going to be getting ready to go home, and we deserve a bit of fun.”

 

Dorcas sighed. “I’ll go if Marlene goes.” 

 

Everyone turned. “I’m in, but good luck convincing Lily.”

 

“Stop talking about me like I’m a stick in the mud!” Lily protested. “I’m not crazy for thinking this is a bad idea, right?” 

 

“Not at all,” Sirius said. “You’re just missing out on a hell of a lot of fun.”

 

Mary grabbed Lily’s hand under the table and squeezed it, their signal for a private conversation. “Mary and I will stay here and finish eating, and Marlene can grab our cloaks, okay?” she said to much whooping from Sirius. “This doesn’t mean we’ve agreed to go, just that we’re thinking about it!” she called at their retreating backs. 

 

As their friends made their way out of the Hall, Mary turned sideways on the bench to face Lily. “Remind me,” she said slowly, “when we started going everywhere with those buffoons?” 

 

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want,” Lily said. “I think it’s an awful idea, it’s just that they’re so excited—“

 

“Answer my question.” 

 

“I don’t really know,” Lily responded, a bit confused, “but it’s starting to wear on me.” 

 

Mary reached back and pushed her hair out of her eyes. Lily, like most people were in the absence of all those bangs, was startled by the sudden appearance of her rather large, very dark eyes. “Marlene and Sirius have always been mates. Dorcas plays Quidditch. You patrol with Remus, and I’ve always tutored Peter… but it was never the eight of us, not before this year. And I couldn’t figure out why until you looked at him in the Common Room the other night. But we’ve starting going together because you and James have gotten friendly.” 

 

Her words were coming out all in a rush, as though saying it faster would make it easier to hear. Lily looked affronted, but Mary continued before she could hear any denials. “They never used to sit with us in the Common Room, not until you two started disappearing to the library and Sirius told me he needed a new chess partner.”

 

“I suppose that makes sense,” said Lily thoughtfully after she let the characteristic wave of disbelief pass. “Not that we’re mates, exactly, I just don’t… I only find myself wanting to strangle him on occasion. And I guess the rest of them come as a bargain.” 

 

Mary placed her hands on the table to try and stop herself from wringing them together. “Can you promise me something?”

 

“Yeah,” Lily said, confused. “Yeah, anything.”

 

“Can you try and keep them around?” 

 

“What d’you mean? How am I going to get rid of them?” 

 

“I told you, we all seemed to fit together before this year. But having the both of you together, it was like pulling the pin out of a grenade and just chucking it around for fun. You’d always have a go at him, and then it would all just fall apart and we’d have to pick sides and it just never worked.” Mary took a deep breath. “I couldn’t even talk to them before, remember? I couldn’t talk to anyone.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “And I like having them around. They make me feel… safer, I guess. Sometimes, when we’re laughing, I even forget about—and I know you don’t think so, but if you leave I leave with you, and then the whole thing goes to shit.” 

 

“Mare,” Lily said, squeezing Mary’s hands in her own, “you don’t need me.” 

 

“Sometimes, for such a smart girl, you can be really stupid sometimes,” Mary said, almost laughing. “But you’re my best friend—fuck, I hate this—so will you just promise me? That we’ll make an effort, and go along with some of their schemes, and listen to their shit jokes just to forget for a little bit?” 

 

“Yeah,” Lily said, and Mary was too busy staring obstinately at her hands to see her smile. She knew it was there anyway. “Yeah, I promise.” 

 

And so they found themselves out in the darkness of the grounds, Sirius clutching a tray he’d begged off the kitchen elves while the rest of them had been in the dormitory putting on layer after layer of sweaters. Everyone was shivering, but especially Lily, who had been tasked with teaching Sirius how a sled worked and was, as a result, sitting with her feet in the snow trying to help him get started. 

 

“So you put your legs in front of you but you have to lift them up a bit—no, put them down!” Lily yelled to no avail, as Sirius had already begun to speed backwards down the hill, whooping loudly. 

 

He rolled off the silver platter with a maniacal grin. “This may be the best thing Muggles have ever invented,” he called up to Lily, his hair full of snowflakes. He shook them out like a dog as James Summoned the tray wordlessly and hopped on. Before anyone could object, he was careening down the hill on a direct collision course with Sirius’ legs, sending them both flying. When they tramped back up, they were red faced and panting, both fighting over who got to slide back down first.

 

Lily rolled her eyes. “It’s honestly like you two forget you own wands. _Gemino_.” 

 

Then all of them were off, soaring down various hills and Levitating their trays back up again, everyone forgetting to be quiet in the intoxicating night air. Dorcas and Mary were sharing a tray Remus had helped them enlarge, and Mary was teaching Dorcas to swerve around trees (and Peter, who had become an obstacle since he couldn’t seem to stay upright all the way down the hill) at the last second. Sirius had realized how to lie on his stomach and go headfirst, and he was trying to convince Marlene that it wasn’t going to get him killed. 

 

Lily caught James by himself by the shore of the Black Lake, gingerly testing the surface to see if it would crack under his weight. “Hi,” she said, her pact with Mary suddenly turning her shy. 

 

“Evans!” James exclaimed, his face lighting up like one of the Christmas trees in the Great Hall. “Having a good time?”

 

“I—yeah,” Lily said. “Although I’m still not sure how we haven’t been caught.” 

 

James grinned. “The only one patrolling is Filch, and he’s too busy looking for Peeves’ stash of chalk pellets to find us out here.” 

 

“Sometimes,” Lily said wryly, gaining back confidence with every word, “I wonder why you know so many things you shouldn’t. And then I remind myself that if I want us to keep getting on so well, I probably shouldn’t ask.”

 

“Getting on?” James asked. “You think we’re—“

 

Lily’s shoulders slumped. “Oh. I guess… I’m sorry if I misinterpreted what this—I mean, I wasn’t trying to say that—“

 

“No,” James said quickly, trying to just forward but instead slipping on the slick ice of the lake. “I meant that we’ve been notoriously not friendly, not by my choice—not that I’m disrespecting your choice, I was a right little prick— but I’m… I just suppose I never thought I’d hear you admit to getting on with me.” 

 

The whoops and cheers of Remus as he slid headfirst down the largest hill on the grounds drifted over to the pair of them. “Well, I said it,” Lily muttered, her cheeks pink. “And I thought, since we won’t be seeing each other for the holidays, that if you wanted, I guess… if you wanted to write me I would probably write you back.” 

 

James looked as though he’d been punched. After an awkward silence that lasted a beat too long, he started to splutter. “Yeah, definitely! I’ll—“ he ran his hand through his hair, grimacing at himself. “I would like that.” 

 

“Good then,” Lily said, her blush creeping down her neck and under her collar. James couldn’t help himself wanting to see where it ended. 

 

Remus slid down next to them, using his wand to propel the tray around the top of the snow. “Are you two just going to stand here while we have all the fun?” he called, his face so happy he looked much more _Remus_ than he had in a while. James shuffled around a bit more on the ice. 

 

“I seem to be stuck,” he said, utterly bemused. Lily, snorting, reached for him so they could join the rest of their friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!! 
> 
> updates might be a little slow, i just started college so i find myself having absolutely no time to write. obviously i'm having a great time but hogwarts has taken a little bit of a step aside to make room for my new, almost as beautiful school. i hope you enjoyed this slightly more cohesive than usual chapter, and know that i have a plot figured out it's just gonna take me a while to get there. and let me know what you thought, if you liked it, thought it was trash, all that jazz. thanks for reading cool bye


	4. chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> our lovebird's correspondence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is mostly letters and then an angsty scene in a bathroom, which is where i prefer all my angst.

** epistolary **

 

The train home, while notable due to several intense games of Exploding Snap, was not nearly as eventful as the one in September. Their parents picked them up on the platform (Sirius went cheerfully with the Potters), but before Lily could rush off to see her father, James pushed an envelope into her hands. 

 

“I thought I’d get a head start on that invitation of yours,” he practically shouted into her ear. Lily looked up at him, smiling in lieu of trying to shout over the din of the station. 

 

Her father’s eyebrows were raised when Lily dragged her trunk over. “Shut up,” she said happily, handing him her cat in its carrier and hoisting her trunk onto a trolley. “Let’s go.”

 

THE CORRESPONDENCE:

 

Evans,

 

I have to say that this is going to be a very boring letter. I talked to you maybe five minutes ago, but you said you’d write me  back and I thought I’d better get a move on before you change your mind. In the aforementioned five minutes since I have left you, I have climbed the 17 stairs to my dormitory, pissed off three loyal friends by passing up their company in favor of my quill and parchment, and breathed approximately 126 times (in and out counting as one breath, because to count otherwise would be excessive). 

 

Anyways, here’s to our correspondence. May it be long, and full of swear words.

 

James

 

..

 

James,

 

I didn’t really expect anything that quick, and I’ve thought about waiting a few days to cool your jets but then I think that might be too cruel… and therein lies the reason I am not a Slytherin. 

 

Even though I’ve had a few more hours of separation that you had, I haven’t actually done that much more. It’s mostly catching up with my dad, which is nice but highly uninteresting. I suppose the only item of note was when he asked after Severus, as he always does, and I finally told him Sev and I don’t get on anymore. He was more relieved than I thought he’d be, and it did loosen the knot in my chest a bit. So no more exploding corridors, what a shame. 

 

I’ve had to take this to Diagon Alley to post, as I haven’t got an owl, but I’d prefer not to take a bus every time I need to write you back. If you think of some other solution than forcing your owl to wait for me to write a response, let it dry, and then seal it, please let me know. I’ve heard you’re very protective over the poor bird and I’d hate to ruin that reputation. 

 

Lily

 

..

 

Evans,

 

Some rapid responses: 

 

What the hell does “cool your jets” mean? 

I’m very glad you’re not a Slytherin.

It is a crying shame about the corridors, they deserve a good shaking up.

I do have a solution to the owl problem: get rid of the bloody cat and buy a useful animal. Until them, borrowing will have to do. Agrippa is yours to command. 

 

In other news, Sirius has become the golden son by (illegally) charming the mistletoe to sing alternating rubbish Christmas carols and idiotic love ballads. My mum reckons it’s sweet, but I may need to team up with Dad and have Sirius killed. It drives the elves batshit, as it’s charmed to sing when anything living crosses under it, so they can’t quietly go about their cleaning anymore. I don’t mean to sound posh, there’s only two of them and Mimsy’s been around so long she’s more of a family member than anything else. She doesn’t do much cleaning, either, since she has trouble on her feet. 

 

And there I go, boring you with endless talk about my House Elves. Someone should take this quill away from me, I’m horribly boring and I 

 

Sirius actually did take the quill away from me. He has this nasty habit of sitting on his ass in my room and annoying me because he has nothing better to do, and now I’ve lost my entire train of thought. Although that might be a good thing, judging on how this letter was going already. 

 

I’m glad to hear about that knot in your chest. I have this crazy fear that you’ll explode something and the Ministry will send you a Howler and you’ll be forced to stay home forever, but then I remembered it was us wizardfolk who make you angry, so you’re probably safe with your dad. Speaking of your dad, I have to know— have you told him about me? My dashing good looks? My dazzling charm? Please tell me he knows about my Quidditch prowess and enormous— well, I’m sure he already knows. Nobody can shut up about me here, it must be the same for you. 

 

Write soon. Agrippa gets nippy when she’s anxious.

 

James

 

..

 

James,

 

It’s a bit awkward, you addressing letters with my last name. You can always start with Lily, but only if you feel up to it. I’ve been told that first name basis is a big step in a relationship, I wouldn’t want to rush you into calling me what everyone else does, it might be too much for you.

 

Cool your jets means relax. A jet is like a large hollow tube we Muggles have bewitched using science. They’re hot and they fly. I always forget, when I’m home, that you have no idea about things that seem absolutely common to me. To answer your other question: no. I have not told my father about you. My father, as much as he loves me, cannot hear about the insufferable boys who use their wands to make fart noises. He needs to think that wizards are a respectable people, and you are the outlier in my data set (again, science—you people know nothing). 

 

My dad’s doing all right, not that you asked. I’m mostly telling you to make me feel better. I’m gone so much, I feel like he’s all alone in the house and sometimes he forgets to eat real food instead of Funyuns. He owns a little construction company, though, and he has a couple of really cool projects he’s working on, so he’s been keeping busy without me. We’re having a nice holiday, just the two of us (Petunia’s in Darbyshire with her fiancé). And the cat. Who you should shut up about, by the way, he’s a handsome boy. Unlike some other boys I know. 

 

That’s funny about Sirius, though. Tell him I said hello and to keep up the good work. I trust you’ll elaborate on the end to this battle of holiday cheer, and until then I’ll be on the edge of my seat. Mostly because I’m taking my time and Agrippa could dive bomb at any moment, but also because of the Sirius thing. 

 

Cheers,

 

Lily

 

P.S. If you want to worry about your dad’s wellbeing to make me feel less awkward and overbearing, feel free to do so. LE

 

..

 

Lils,

 

Still okay if I come over tomorrow? I’d have to stay a day longer, I hope that’s okay—Stephen pitched a fit about missing school to ski, and his break doesn’t start until the 20th. Mum and Dad asked for a couple days to themselves up there, so I’ve got to drive him myself and now have more free time than I anticipated. 

 

Just circle yes or no and send this back. I can explain more when I see you. Home has been a rather interesting place to be—Mum’s placed an order for the Prophet (she found a sickle under my bed, which is good for 29 copies). I hadn’t exactly told her how bad the war’s gotten, you know I don’t like to talk about it. Well, anyways. Let me know.

 

Mary

 

..

 

Lily (I still feel like I’m going to get punched, but I’ll get there),

 

I thank you for the kind explanation of what a jet is. And I also realize that all of this business I’m telling you about my house and house elves may make my family seem a bit superficial. It isn’t, not in that way at least. 

 

Sometimes I feel like I’m constantly explaining my parents to people, mostly because we aren’t the typical magical family. You obviously don’t come with those sorts of prejudices, but when I was younger I never made it a point to hide the fact that I’m quite well off, and suppose that in itself gives you an idea of what my parents are like. I promise you, they’re the opposite. 

 

My mum’s quite a woman, I think you’d get on. She was in the Department of Mysteries for ages. Keeps a lot of secrets, my mum, but she was good at what she did. Made it all the way to the Head of the Department before she retired; her portrait’s hanging in the Ministry somewhere. She likes a good party, especially now she’s not working. I suppose it’s her old family upbringing. My Shafiq cousins aren’t exactly known for quiet nights at home. Her parties are usually for charity, although that’s my dad’s doing. He’s a potioneer, makes mostly cosmetic stuff, so he spent a lot of time at home when I was little. We took a lot of time off to go traveling and find ingredients he could use, or just to get out of the house. 

 

He’s the last Potter in England, as the rest were a bit too outspoken in the 20s and got run off for America. Big family man, my dad, always sad he and Mum could only manage to have one kid. He was really happy when Sirius turned up, he likes the extra noise. That’s the thing about my parents. I came along a couple years after they’d given up on kids, and they did their best not to spoil me, but they came up a bit short. 

 

I don’t mean to bore you with my entire life story. It’s just I feel like we’re writing to each other from these totally different worlds, and I wanted to give you a window into mine. I’ll try to “cool my jets” next time and keep my genetic heritage to myself. But, I don’t know, all my other friends know good old Euphemia and Fleamont, I figure you should too. 

 

As for Sirius’ mistletoe, it’s come down. Mum’s started decorating for the Christmas party. As soon as it clashed with the color scheme it was gone, no arguments from anyone. We all know by now not to mess with the décor. When Remus came over we had to sneak him in the back so he didn’t jostle the angel statues by the front door. 

 

Don’t think barmy old Remus makes me less eager for your response. I see too much of him as it is.

 

James

 

..

 

hi Evans,

 

Please release James from your evil spell. He won’t even play Exploding Snap anymore. He just stays shut up in his room replying to your bewitched letters. It’s frustrating. I want him back.

 

Padfoot

 

..

 

Black,

 

No enchantment. Maybe you’re just not as interesting as you think you are? 

 

LE

 

..

 

James,

 

Your parents sound like lovely people. I have to say, I used to think they’d be the sort to leave you with a nanny and never teach you to behave properly (that’s the prejudices talking!). You were a right prick when we first met. 

 

If it’s okay, I’m not going to tell you all about my parents. You already know about Tuney, and my dad. My mum’s hard to talk about. It’s been long enough that I _can_ talk about it, but it’s complicated. I always favored my dad, and Tuney loved my mum best. Now we’re lopsided and a bit broken, and being home can be really hard. 

 

Like today, I woke up early and then I made breakfast. I make the best waffles in the whole world (don’t listen to Dorcas, she doesn’t label her ingredients and that’s not my fault). When Tuney came down she didn’t eat any because she was on a diet, and my dad was running late so he didn’t have time for anything more than a cup of coffee. So I sat at my kitchen table and I ate four waffles on my own. That’s the best way I can think of to explain how we work. Our paths never seem to cross, even when we’re all in the same room.

 

Mary comes tomorrow, though, and she can’t cook to save her life, so at least I have someone to eat what I make. Her parents are making her go skiing, which is like sledding but you wear long skinny sleds on your feet and use poles to steer. If you go fast enough and jump off enough hills, it can be a sport. It’s funny, wizards only have Quidditch, but us Muggleborns have way more sports to keep track of. Mary used to be nationally ranked, she hates talking about it. You should ask the next time you see her. Or don’t, if you value your self esteem. 

 

Lily

 

P.S. My mum was tall, and she was quiet. Those were the things people noticed most about her. I felt bad sending this to you with nothing but an anecdote about waffles when you sent me such a detailed portrait. I already sort of regret it, but hey, we all remember what happened last time I kept everything bottled up. I seem to remember things exploding. LE

 

..

 

Lily,

 

I have this feeling that you’ve heard so many people apologize the words have lost all meaning, so I’m just not going to say them. I’ll just prattle on about how worried I am about Christmas, because I haven’t bought any presents yet. I have absolutely no idea what to get. I do this every year, and it only gets worse. Maybe next year I’ll go shopping on Boxing Day. 

 

I’m only telling you this because I thought we ought to lighten the tone of these letters. If only for Father Christmas’s sake. I don’t think he wants to steal your post and read about my tragic childhood accident or how Sirius is so horrible I cry three times a day. It might make him cry, and then how will he get toys to all the girls and boys? 

 

The house looks positively garish. I swear Mum’s squandered my entire inheritance on tinsel, and not even the charmed kind (she has this obsession with everything being “classic”). I got in the way of her bauble-hanging yesterday, so I’m at Remus’ trying to keep a low profile. Mum wouldn’t say she wanted me gone, but she obviously does. Even Dad picked up the hints and he’s been out collecting ingredients for a couple days. He said he was after some sort of mushroom, but he’s got to camp to look for it because it only comes out under new moon. I’m sure you’d know what he’s talking about, but I have no idea. Even a luxury tent couldn’t convince me to spend more than one night in Muggle woods, and Dad likes to travel with sparse gear. He says it’s easier on his back. I think he just likes to feel tough. I have other ways of proving my masculinity, I don’t need camping.

 

So that’s me. Hope your Christmas buildup has been going well. Or better than mine, at least. 

 

James

 

..

 

James,

 

I sat down to write this out to you and Mary wouldn’t stop looking over my shoulder. I’ve had to distract her with

 

I’ll start over (no sense in wasting good parchment). Mary came for a visit and she can’t believe I’m sending you letters that aren’t in the form of Howlers. It’s insulting, how little they thing of us. Oh, now Mary’s looking over my shoulder again and I REALLY THINK SHE SHOULD LEARN TO RESPECT MY PRIVACY. Sadly, those capital letters did not sway her. I’m going to keep this short. Sorry. At least Agrippa didn’t have to wait too long.

 

Lily

 

..

 

Marlene,

 

Mayday alert!!! Major interrogation needed on a certain redheaded friend of ours. I believe we may bear witness to a holy matrimony if we act fast enough.

 

(Send this off to Dorcas, too, she needs to get to Lily’s ASAP)

 

Mary

 

..

 

Lily,

 

It’s really putting a damper on our conversation that you don’t have an owl. Once again, replace the cat. I hate feeling like this is one sided, it brings back horrible memories from last year when I followed you around constantly and you never said a word to me. And yes, this is a guilt tactic. I want you to write me back.

 

I’ve sent Agrippa back to you carrying this very short letter so you can write me a proper one instead of the rubbish I just received. She’s just been fed double, so don’t give in to her pouty looks and take your time. 

 

Oh, and happy Christmas.

 

James

 

..

 

Evans,

 

You must have done something. Give him back, harlot.

 

Sirius

 

(also, if you’re looking for a strong man, I did beat him in the snowball fight so you could always enchant me instead) SB

 

..

 

My roommates have arrived. I’m writing from the loo. Send Agrippa back soon, or else I’ll have to use Muggle post. 

 

Lily

 

P.S. Pay more attention to Black, he’s bugging me. LE

 

* * *

**the intervention**

 

Lily tied her letter to the owl’s waiting leg and sucked on her quill. Marlene and Dorcas had barged in that morning, demanding to see all of her post and scaring her father so much he’d accidentally set the oven 100 degrees too high on the Christmas cookies and had to start another batch. 

 

“I called them because you’re being sneaky,” Mary had said in lieu of a greeting. “And so we can fight to the death over who gets to be the maid of honor.” 

 

Lily snorted. “The fact that any of you think you’re going to be in my wedding after you all storm into my house unannounced like this is laughable.” 

 

“Have you not been corresponding with a certain James Potter?” Mary asked, too sly for her own good.

 

“Oh, have you?” Dorcas asked, her face breaking out into a grin. “I always said you’d look sweet together!”

 

“We don’t look _anything_ together! All I’m doing is writing him letters. It’s nothing, we just wanted to talk,” Lily said, obviously frustrated. “You’re blowing things out of proportion.” 

 

When Lily finally looked away from Dorcas, Marlene had already snatched several letters off her bedside table. “He’s writing you about his mum! Old Euphemia never cared for me, I trampled her poinsettias when I was nine.” 

 

“I told you, they’re getting into it. He even lets his owl wait here while she writes him back.” Mary somehow managed to look even more smug as Lily snatched the letters back from Marlene. “He wouldn’t let me use the bloody thing to owl Hogsmeade.” 

 

Dorcas almost cooed. “Lily, you’d be so good in love! I always tell you to get out there more, you don’t know what it’s like yet. You’d always dump them after two dates, you never get as far as the honeymoon stage, not like me an Alissa--“

 

“We aren’t in love!” Lily shouted. 

 

“I know that,” Dorcas pouted. “I only said you’d like it. Especially with James.” 

 

“Thinking of his dick does make me want to throw up a bit, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. You were spared the childhood baths,” Marlene said, looking far too innocent and well meaning to be mentioning anyone’s dick. 

 

“Please stop,” Lily said, hiding her face in her hands. “Please.” 

 

“Then tell us the whole story. From the beginning,” Mary said, rather sternly. “It’s not okay to keep secrets, not about things like this.” 

 

Lily bristled. “I’m entitled to my privacy! So what if I asked him to write me, how is that any of your business?” 

 

“ _You_ asked him?” Dorcas said incredulously, at the same time Marlene yelled “how long has this been going on?” 

 

“I just thought you’d mention something like that. To us, anyways.” Mary was using her haughty tone, the one that meant she knew she was right and nobody was going to change her mind. Under good circumstances Lily found it annoying, but at this point in the conversation it almost made her murderous. 

 

“I’m not a criminal for talking to him without your permission,” she snapped. “It’s not my fault _he_ listens.”

 

Mary looked as though she’d just been slapped, all traces of superiority gone from her face. “Since when do I not listen?”

 

“There are things I can’t tell you,” Lily yelled. “You say I shouldn’t be so dramatic, that I should just be thankful for what I have. You can’t speak to anyone else without a pep talk, but when it comes to me and my problems you always have something to say!”

 

That’s how she ended up in the bathroom with Agrippa, listening to Marlene and Dorcas’s aggressively normal conversation. Mary, it seemed, was being characteristically silent. 

 

“I knew it, too,” Marlene was saying. “I know you’re a sucker for this kind of thing, Dor, but Sirius and I called it ages ago.”

 

“I know I sound stupid. She just looks so lonely sometimes, and you know she’s not going to tell us about it.” Dorcas sighed heavy enough Lily could hear it through the door. “She has this idea that if she doesn’t tell us, she’s sparing us from something. Carrie used to do it. Once she spent a week with a broken finger and wouldn’t tell anyone, even Mum, because she didn’t want us to feel bad for her.”

 

“Well, she’s never liked him very much, so giving him pain doesn’t seem to be a problem,” Marlene said dryly. 

 

Lily rested her head against the cool tile and wondered how her friends could possibly know so much about her when she barely told them anything. 

 

Sure, they talked about schoolwork and crushes and whatever nonsense they got up to in the hallways, but Lily had always been cheeky and mothering instead of open. The only one she’d ever told about Snape was Mary, and that was only after he’d gotten distant and started spending time with Mulciber and Avery. Spilling everything they’d been through had been such a relief, and telling Mary how worried she was about him when they went home had made the problem seem so much more manageable. But then Snape had gotten wind of the fact that she’d confided in someone else, and he spent his break accusing her of being disloyal, a slut. Once the holidays were over he ran right into the waiting arms of Mulciber. And then, by springtime, Mary was huddled under the stairs in the Entrance Hall suffering horrors that only existed in her head. 

 

Mary always said she didn’t remember anything, but Lily knew it was him. The way Sev flinched when she said his name, how he sneered at Mary in the hallway. Mary knew it, too, knew it the way you could feel someone watching from 100 meters out. Snape had always been good with experimental magic, even better at teaching it, and Mulciber never got caught. 

 

And Lily knew what she’d done. She’d hurt Mary beyond repair, and then she made sure Mary would have to get reminded every time he leered in their direction. Mary had always been shy, but around anyone else but her best friends it became painful. Seeing how witty she was around Lily, how vibrant and biting, only made it harder to watch when Mary saw someone coming and clamped shut. But there was nobody left to tell, so Lily kept it to herself. 

 

She told Sev everything, Lily realized as her legs pressed against the cold bathroom tile. And all he’d done was use it to royally fuck up her life. 

 

“Mary?” she called finally, concentrating hard on the door lock. After a couple seconds, it clicked. Lily allowed the old thrill of the magic run through her without the weight of guilt in her stomach pressing it down. “Can you come in here?” 

 

Mary stood framed in the doorway, her expression utterly neutral. She said nothing.

 

Lily took a deep breath and fought back the wave of panic that engulfed her when she opened her mouth. “I’m sorry. Not about writing James without telling you, as that’s got nothing to do with this. Or, rather, _he_ doesn’t. Fuck it, I’m sorry that I told you about Snape and he and his shit for brains friends did those horrible things to you. And I’m sorry I let that take me away from you as well.” Mary’s expression was still neutral, and Lily felt a dam break inside of her that made it impossible to stop talking.

 

“I didn’t mean for it to go like that, I was just so furious with everything and my magic went wrong and I didn’t want to make anyone’s life harder than I’d already made it so I didn’t say anything—“

 

“Will you just shut up?” Mary said sternly. “I forgive you for your noble intentions and terrible results. And I’m going to tell you, for the last time, that whoever hurt me did it because they’re sadistic and fucked up, and that had nothing to do with you. I will also admit that I can be a judgmental ass sometimes, although that’s not an apology either. It’s just a fact.”

 

Lily made a noise of pure relief. “Half apology accepted.”

 

“Good,” Mary said. “Now can we please talk about this magic bit? What do you mean ‘wrong’?”

 

“When you start to hate it, it sort of turns back on you,” Lily said, reveling in her newfound explanation. “James and I were trying to figure it out, that’s why we disappeared so often.” 

 

Dorcas and Marlene, in the next room, ceased whispering the instant James’ name was mentioned. Mary rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding. You two were _actually_ at the library? That’s infinitely more boring than I wanted it to be.” 

 

“I don’t know,” Lily said, “it seemed pretty radical to me at the time.” 

 

“You’ve seen the way he looks at you, Lil,” Mary said. She settled on the floor and winced as the cool tile made contact with her bare skin. “Radical would be him wanting nothing to do with you.” 

 

“He asked me out a couple times last year, and he’s obviously gotten over it.” Lily stopped as Marlene filled the doorway, casting both Lily and Mary into shadow. 

 

“Take it from someone who knows how blokes get when they’re ‘just your friend’—he’d just taking what you give him and pretending it’s better than nothing.” Marlene threw an owl treat at Lily. “He lets you keep Agrippa here, just to exchange pleasantries. I know James, that means he’d marry you this very minute.”

 

The three girls heard a thump from Lily’s room. “I love weddings!” Dorcas shouted, climbing back onto the bed.

 

Mary nudged Lily with her elbow. “So, tell us everything he’s ever said to you and then we can pick it to pieces.” If Lily detected a whiff of sarcasm, she ignored it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahhhahhhaahahahahaaha college is SO HARD and now that i'm done with my first term i can post this and know that it wasn't written in a fever dream it was written when i was being a coherent person with a coherent brain
> 
> anyways, tell me what you think!!!! although you are all entitled to your own opinions, i hope they're good ones, and that you enjoyed this lil chap. i'd say expect an update soon, but that would be a lie. the jiliad isn't written in a day.


	5. chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> have a merry christmas!!! this is about a christmas party. wow so many tropes. 
> 
> pls enjoy this shameless christmas fluff after the angst of writing a marauders era epic got to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's february. and i wrote this around christmas so its very christmassy and i'm sorry that i didn't upload it then. anyways enjoy

** christmas cheer **

 

James,

 

I’m sending this though Muggle post because I think sending a Christmas present without a stamp just doesn’t allow for the proper cheer. At least, that’s how I was brought up. In regards to the present, it’s not actually included in this package because you said you were bad at presents and I thought maybe

 

I don’t know what I thought. But I got something for you, and I can send it to you (with a stamp on) if you want it. This is dumb. 

 

 

Anyways, I know your Mum’s party is soon and I don’t want to make you late for any chores she has you doing, so I’m going to end this (and hopefully I won’t say anything else embarrassing). I also wanted to let you know that my friends are gone and they’re not being annoying about this anymore. Although Sirius isn’t gone and he’s still being annoying, so please pay more attention to him. He’s getting on my nerves. 

 

Lily

 

..

 

Lily,

 

I’ve never seen a stamp before! Thank you for getting me a gift, and don’t worry so much about it—I have one for you too. I also have a proposition for you: do you want to come to my Mum’s party? 

 

I just thought since I’ve talked your ear off about it all holiday you deserve to see the end result. You won’t hurt for company, because there are guests for which it is required by propriety (Marlene and Sirius) and friendship (Remus and Peter) to attend. Not that I won’t be seeing you there too, it’s just that you don’t have to worry about not having any friendly faces. And I thought maybe I could give you your present and I could open mine? 

 

It’s okay if you don’t want to. Or if you can’t. No pressure. It’s a big event, and you might have family things to do or not want to get dressed all fancy. Don’t worry about it. Just let me know either way. Take your time. But also, it’s tomorrow, so don’t take too long.

 

James

 

Of course I’ll come, stop being so weird. LE

 

* * *

**the party: a prelude**

 

Lily opened the doors to her closet and groaned. She wasn’t going to make this a bad movie montage. That is to say, she wasn’t going to tear at her hair and scream about how she had nothing to wear while she scattered perfectly suitable clothes in all directions because she wanted something that would make James’ jaw dropped. As much as her life seemed like a romantic comedy, it wasn’t what she was going for. And she certainly didn’t care what James Potter thought of her outfit. 

 

But she didn’t have anything to wear, and she was feeling dramatic. “Hello?” Mary said, and Lily thanked God that she had answered the telephone and not her mother. 

 

“It’s me. I need you to listen to the end of my rant before making comments about anything I say. Got it?”

 

“Yeah. Shoot.” 

 

“I’m going to James’ Mum’s important and fancy Christmas party, where James and I will be exchanging Christmas gifts and probably there will be dancing.” Lily paused, waiting for Mary’s reaction. She was pleasantly surprised when Mary waited patiently fro her to finish. “I don’t want this to give you the impression that I fancy him, because I don’t, but I have nothing to wear and I need help. Or a million pounds, so I can afford a fancy person’s wardrobe.” 

 

The line was silent for a long beat. “I can talk now?” Mary asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Don’t freak out. I promise you have plenty of things to wear, and even if you didn’t and you had to go in your grandma’s nightie, that boy would still tell you you looked amazing. As for his mother, as long as it’s tasteful she’ll probably chalk up any small mistakes to your blood status. This is one instance where being muggleborn gives us a pass, yeah?”

 

“You’re coming over though?” 

 

“Yeah, I’m on my way.” 

 

By the time Mary was done with Lily, her room looked like a bomb had hit. They’d finally found a dress in the very back of her closet, something Petunia had thrown at Lily in a fit of rage both of them had forgotten about. It was dark green, which Lily deemed festive enough, and Mary was satisfied with the bit of plunge in the neckline. She’d also loaned Lily one of her Mum’s necklaces. Lily held up the tiny diamond on its long gilded chain and wondered aloud how she ever forgot Mary was high society. 

 

“It doesn’t matter how much money you have as long as you’re muggleborn,” Mary said, grinning. “I’m so glad I’m magic, otherwise I would’ve ended up somewhere awful like Stephen at Eton.”

 

Lily laughed. “The wizarding world, eliminating class distinctions using blood purity for generations. They've truly given us a gift.” 

 

“You’re feeling extra sarcastic today,” Mary said, digging through Lily’s closet to find shoes.

 

“I’m going to a giant mansion for a party with the oldest wizarding families in England. I need my sense of humor or I might collapse.” 

 

“You finally know how I feel,” Mary said. All but her feet were in the closet, and her voice was oddly muffled, as though she was burrowing her way into Lily’s extensive jumper collection. “Once I get shoes I’m sending you to Marlene’s for makeup, but I can’t come. I have a family dinner. Mum’s making braised trout.”

 

Lily fiddled with the clasp on her necklace. “D’you even like braised trout?” 

 

“No,” Mary called, still inside the closet. “Why, do you? We could totally switch places and I could hang out at a party with all my friends while you go to my family dinner. I would totally do that for you.” Lily swatted at Mary’s feet, which was the only part of her she could reach. 

 

“Just make me pretty and go eat your trout.”

 

* * *

**the party: vol. I**

 

Sirius took a noisy bite of his apple and leaned back on the pillows. “This is your seventeenth Christmas party, I don’t see why you’re agonizing over which set of pre-approved dress robes you’re going to wear.” 

 

A shoe went flying at Sirius’s head. “There’s no agony involved. I just asked which color you thought suited me—“ 

 

“Merlin, it’s liked we’re dating,” Sirius interjected. James pressed his lips together and didn’t reply. “It would be really shitty of you to dress up for Evans while you’re yanking me along, wouldn’t it?”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

The both of them managed to get dressed and downstairs in time for Mrs. Potter to check them over (the inside-out trousers incident was too fresh in everybody’s minds) before they started greeting their guests. 

 

Old witches and even older wizards forced kisses onto James’ cheek,awkwardly avoided Sirius, and would not shut up about the damn decoration. James watched as the party filled up with a veritable who’s who of the magical elite (as well as his mum’s most charitable donators). 

 

“Stop looking for her, mate, you’re being obvious,” Sirius said out of the corner of his mouth while James shook the hand of yet another old colleague of his mother’s. 

 

“Well I never told her what time it started,” James said. A much appreciated lull in guests gave him the time to look the least bit worried. Sirius, noting his distress, decided not to take the piss but instead to take pity. 

 

“Her and Marlene are coming together. I’ve got it on good authority that they’re both looking incredible and planning on drinking all your champagne. Stop worrying.” Sirius located his reflection in a polished cherub statue and fiddled with his hair. “I wish Meadowes was coming, she’s always a laugh after champagne.” 

 

James wanted to laugh, but more guests arrived before he had the change. He knew his mother’s party was _the_ wizarding event of the holidays, but he always managed to convince himself it wasn’t as bad as he remembered. And then, when it was too late to fake a case of dragon pox, he was wondering how he could have ever forgotten what pure torture felt like. 

 

It felt so bad, in fact, that he didn’t notice Marlene and Lily had arrived until they were right in front of him. All of the charming greetings he’d used on his mum’s friends seemed to have evaporated into thin air, so James went with his gut and led with “uh… hi.” 

 

Lily was just as shy. Marlene, likely, was not. After several beats of silence, she said, “Potter, quick, get me out of this queue before Euphemia shows up and tells me I look like a slag in that tasteful way of hers.” Lily spluttered with laughter and covered her mouth with her hand in a futile attempt to mask it. 

 

“Don’t worry, she’s playing hostess by the hors d’evours,” Sirius said, grabbing Marlene’s arm and leading her away. “But the drinks are at the exact opposite end of the room.” 

 

Marlene brightened. “Good, let’s go there.” 

 

As Sirius and Marlene started towards the drinks table, James realized what that meant. “Sirius, you can’t go yet, there’s—“ he started, but stopped when Sirius shot him a rude gesture behind his back.

 

“What, you don’t want to be left alone with me?” Lily asked, a sly grin starting to spread across her face. “I thought we were past that.” 

 

“No, its—of course not, I just—“ Lily burst into laughter again, and James scowled. “I have to greet all the guests and I really hate doing it alone.” 

 

Lily raised her eyebrows and glanced around the rather packed entrance to James’ house. “You had to greet _all_ of these people?” 

 

“Well, some of them have moved into the main room—“ 

 

“This isn’t the main room?” Lily burst out, looking around with even more interest. “How big is this place?” 

 

“Bigger than you think, and filled with old people who won’t stop asking what year I’m in, how my studies are going, and if I remember what a cute bum I had when I was two and liked to run round Mum’s office naked.” James grinned ruefully. “I swear most of the people asking didn’t even work in her department, they just like to embarrass me.” 

 

“We have something common already,” Lily said, and then she looked at James seriously. “I may have something that can get you out of your duty as host, but you make it sound like such fun, I wouldn’t want to drag you away…”

 

James grabbed Lily’s hands before he could convince himself not to. “Please, I’ll do anything,” he begged, and was enormously relieved when Lily laughed. 

 

“I’ve never seen your, um… is house the right word?” James blushed, ducking his head before Lily could notice. “Whatever it is, I’ve never seen it, and you should give me a tour.” 

 

“You’re brilliant,” James said, and all of a sudden Lily had her own blush worth ducking for. “Do you want the actual magical history version, or the behind the family drama deluxe tour?” James asked. 

 

There was enough about Potter Manor’s architecture that just explaining the entryway would take an hour, so James was immensely relieved when Lily chose the family drama option. “That statue of Godric Gryffindor is missing some toes because of a Slytherin cousin that took offense when our firework show didn’t have any green Catherine Wheels,” James explained as he and Lily walked slowly around the room. “Mum has the toes in a box somewhere, I think, but Dad wouldn’t let her repair it. He said it’s too good a reminder of why we’re a proud Gryffindor family. Mum was in Ravenclaw, though, so I dunno why he always makes such a fuss.” 

 

“It reminds me of that statue on the fourth floor,” Lily said, running her hands over the jagged edge of Gryffindor’s foot. 

 

“Barnabus the Barmy?” James let out a bark of laughter that carried over the crowd and caused some conversations to halt while they searched for the source of the noise. 

 

Lily caught herself staring a bit too long as he laughed; at the column of his throat and the broadness underneath his dress robes. It caught her by surprise, the suddenness of her desire to keep looking. And then he met here eye, and she couldn’t do anything but turn red and look determinately at an odd painting of a bog with a cheeky looking grindylow. 

 

“And what’s this?” she asked, awkwardly jerking her head at the creature. “Your grandfather?” 

 

“Actually, it’s a paint-by-numbers,” said a voice beside Lily. James started, then turned redder than the rubies on Gryffindor’s stone sword. 

 

“Mum!” he squeaked. “You, ah, you snuck up on me a bit there.” 

 

“I was just telling your friend that if you put a paint-by-number next to an ancient and quite expensive statue, people tend not to notice.” James’ mum wasn’t particularly tall or particularly beautiful, but she had a presence that made Lily want to use both adjectives to describe her. It wasn’t her dress, either; the silvery material was flattering and probably very expensive, but it was the way she carried herself in it. Lily got the feeling Euphemia Potter could wear a potato sack in a hovel and still look like a glamorous hostess. 

 

“My friend is… Mum, this is Lily. Evans, Lily Evans,” James said, looking suddenly uncomfortable in his dress robes. Lily was fiercely grateful to Mary for dressing her properly. 

 

Euphemia smiled, a real one this time. Lily wasn’t sure how she could tell the difference, but it was palpable. “So this is the famous Lily Evans then, isn’t it?” 

 

“Yes ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” Lily said, sticking out her hand (but not before trying to wipe it discreetly on her dress). Euphemia grasped it and shook only once. 

 

“Likewise, dear.” 

 

“I’ve heard so much about the decorations from James, but he didn’t exactly do them justice. It was mostly complaints, but they’re really lovely.” 

 

“I’ve probably heard more about you,” Euphemia said. “You’re quite the potioneer, aren’t you? My husband is always looking for talented, fresh eyes on his newer projects. Have you met him yet?” 

 

James groaned as only a mortified son can. “”Mum, _please_ don’t go introducing her to every relative I’ve got. Sirius is waiting for us, and you know how he gets when he sits still for so long—“ 

 

“I swear, it’s like you think I have a dog instead of a son. But don’t sell him short, he’s just been to see me and say he’s gone out for a bit of air.” Euphemia looked around for Sirius but instead spotted a very old couple looking very unbalanced by a table of Elvish wine. “Oh, Merlin, that’ll be Muriel Weasley and her husband. I haven’t said hello yet, she’ll have my head.”

 

At that exact moment, a throng of middle-aged wizards spotted a waiter and made a beeline for the tray of cocktail shrimp he was carrying. The route they took just happened to cause Lily to stumble backwards, to which James placed a hand on the small of her back to steady her. She froze and James removed his hand self consciously, not noticing that through all of this Euphemia was watching with an amused sort of smile. 

 

“And just in case my ill-bred son hadn’t told you yet, you look lovely,” Euphemia said, and with that she was swept away with the crowd.

 

It took Lily a beat to recover, after which she said, “you were right about your mother. I’m not sure whether to be pleased or terrified.” 

 

“I’d say both, just to be safe. But she’s gone now, so let’s get something to drink,” James said, mussing up his hair with one hand. Lily grasped his elbow and, by some miracle, they ended up outside with four glasses of champagne. Sirius was at the nearest table with his feet kicked up, looking artfully disheveled. Marlene was nowhere to be found. 

 

“I’ve already got some, thanks,” he said, gesturing to the nearly full glass he was slowly tipping with one foot. 

 

“What makes you think any of these are for you?” Lily asked, then took a long sip from the flute held in her hand. She turned back to James and traded her almost empty glass for one of his full ones. “Just out of curiosity, how much does your mum know about me?” 

 

Sirius snorted. “So much. He never used to shut up about you.” He pitched his voice higher in a poor approximation of a preteen James. “She’s always telling me off and she’s beating me in Potions and when she looks at me my stomach goes all funny—“

 

There was a thump from under the table, and Sirius swore after accidentally pushing his champagne over with his foot. Lily took another long sip from her glass. 

 

“Gimme yours,” Sirius grunted at James, who shook his head vehemently. 

 

“Go get your own,” James replied in a low voice. “And find Remus while you’re at it, who knows what he’s up to.” Sirius let his chair legs fall with a crash against the stone patio and stomped off. 

 

“He puts on a good front,” Lily said, soft, at Sirius’ retreating back. “But he really hates these things, doesn’t he?” 

 

James turned, surprised at Lily having any knowledge of intimate feelings. “How d’you—“ 

 

“There’s a disowned siblings club,” Lily said, dry, then pressed on after James rolled his eyes. “My hatred of everything you do doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been going to school with you and your mates for six years. We’ve found opportunities to chat about our surprisingly similar family situations.”

 

“Oh. Well—yeah, everyone knows what happened to him, and everyone’s basically taken a side. They either treat him like a poor lost soul or a disgrace to his entire line.” James swallowed awkwardly. “They don’t particularly admire my parents for letting him stay here.” 

 

“I get the feeling your mum doesn’t particularly care,” Lily said with a hint of a smile playing on her lips. James was suddenly struck dumb by the flecks of lighter free in her eyes, the way even her irises were freckled. “What do you usually do for fun at these things?” 

 

James thought about saying something stupid, just to get her to smile like that again, but then he saw how she was hugging her chest and puffing out breaths she could see. “We usually get drunk off stolen booze and hide in the cloakroom.” 

 

“Oh,” Lily said, and for a second James thought he heard disappointment in her voice. “All right then. I’ll find Marlene, you go grab your ducklings and then we’ll… go through some rich pockets, I guess.” 

 

James stopped in his tracks. “I’m sorry. My what?” 

 

“You’re a mama duck,” Lily said, plucking at the pins in her hair. “And they’re your ducklings.” 

 

“I take offense at that. We are not—“ But Lily was already inside, weaving among the people on her toes. James grinned to himself, finished his drink, and followed her inside.

 

* * *

**the party, vol. II: it all goes to shit**

 

Marlene, who had disappeared to the hors d’eourves table the minute Euphemia had vacated it, felt the confrontation before she saw it. It was impossible to be Lily’s friend and not know the telltale signs of her emotional magic. Most witches needed wands to make your hair stand on end, but all Lily had ever needed was an insult. 

 

So when the hairs on Marlene’s arms stood up, she cursed under he breath and turned, expecting to find Lily at James’ throat yet again. Instead, Rodolphus Lestrange had Lily trapped by propriety and was sneering like his life depended on it. Marlene set down her miniature quail’s egg quiche and made her way over, expecting a fight. 

 

“Excuse me?” Lily was saying as Marlene moved into earshot. 

 

Rodolphus did his best to raise one eyebrow. “I _said_ , who let the rabble into the party?” 

 

“And I gave you a polite chance to rethink your statement. I’m sorry you didn’t take it.” Lily stood her ground. The only thing that betrayed her rage was the red creeping its way up her neck. 

 

“Oh, I remember that cheek,” Rodolphus said. “You’re Snape’s pet mudblood. How’d you manage to get off your leash?” 

 

The air almost crackled, and as Marlene placed her hand protectively around Lily’s arm people began to take notice. “I told him the same thing I’m telling you. You can go fuck yourself, or you can try your best to duel me. Although I have to say, if you chose to stick around and people find out you got beaten by a mudblood, you’ll probably have to settle for fucking yourself anyways, Bellatrix wouldn't touch you. Maybe it’s not much of a choice after all.” 

 

A spectacularly old woman weighed down by pearls gasped audibly. Marlene shot her a glare and she turned hurriedly back to her obviously hearing impaired husband. 

 

“Shut up, you filthy-blooded bitch—“ 

 

“You’ve already insulted my blood, why don’t you come up with something new to complain about?” Rodolphus gave up his carefully positioned slouch and rushed forward to tower over Lily with a murderous expression. Lily, shaking slightly under Marlene’s hand, didn’t show any sign of moving. 

 

“You talk like that now, but when the Dark Lord comes for you I’ll make sure he’s already decided your fate, scum.” Rodolphus drew whatever dignity he had left and stalked off. Lily’s legs gave a little, and Marlene felt the charge go out of the air. 

 

“You okay?” Marlene asked softly, to which Lily nodded unconvincingly. Marlene half dragged her off into an alcove and sat her down next to a bust of a rather warty old witch. “He’s a prick.” 

 

“I’m supposed to have that under control,” Lily said, rubbing at the goosebumps on her arms. “You felt that, right?” 

 

Marlene frowned. “Everyone felt it.” Ignoring Lily’s groan, she pressed on. “You’ve always done that, Lil. The first time I ever met you and I insulted Snape’s haircut I got a static shock.” This, it seemed, was able to calm Lily down enough for her to realize what had just happened.

 

“Fuck,” she said, putting her head in her hands. “Fuck! I wanted this to be fun and I went and had a row with—“

 

“You defended yourself from a piece of shit. And we can stick to the original plan, you know. Sneak away. Drink. Forget about the pitfalls of society.” Marlene hauled Lily out of her seat and started marching her across the room, hopefully too fast to have any more encounters with old schoolmates. 

 

“Yeah, perfect,” Lily said, and if Marlene detected a hint of sarcasm in her voice she ignored it. “I’m just going to hide in the cloakroom for the rest of the evening.” 

 

“It’s the cloakroom this year, then? Last year James had us in the kitchens.” Marlene continued to yank Lily along, out of the main room and into the entranceway. 

 

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were all in the hallway, trying not to look like they were waiting. “I have my ducklings,” James said, reveling in the fact that Sirius hated it even more than he did, but only because he didn’t get to be the mother. 

 

“Why are we here?” Remus asked, looking to Marlene for an explanation. She shrugged. “We can sit in a cloakroom literally any time we want, but there’s a party. In your own house. With mini quiches.” Marlene felt a sudden rush of affection for Remus.

 

“All we have to do is show up at the beginning, and then nobody cares,” Sirius said offhandedly. 

 

Lily bristled. “You know what? I’m going to go mingle. It’s not often I’m around guests of this caliber, it wouldn’t do to deprive them of the chance to call me scum.” And with that she turned on her heel and stalked back the way she had come. 

 

They all stood still, not knowing whether or not to follow. “What the fuck is wrong with her?” Sirius asked under his breath. 

 

“Lestrange called her a filthy mudblood and everyone sort of stood there and watched,” Marlene shot back, but James wasn’t listening and was instead pulling on bits of his hair as if he were mad. 

 

“She took care of herself?” Sirius said, barely questioning. Marlene nodded, and before James could ask what they were on about she’d grabbed his hand and was dragging him along to the sound of a waltz. 

 

“What’s going on?” James asked, a fraction too loud above the music. 

 

“You brought her to a party full of rich bigoted old people and then made her feel like you needed to hide her,” Marlene explained. “You’ve been to so many of these that you understand the cloakroom is the better option, but she doesn’t have the benefit of hindsight yet.” 

 

James frowned. “All I meant by it was that I wanted to… I don’t know, hang out without the constant threat of my mother looming over us.” 

 

“I know Euphemia and I have a strained relationship, but the woman does not loom,” Marlene joked. When James focused his stern expression on her, she abandoned the attempt. “Look, Lily’s proud. You of all people should be aware of that, she’d murder you in a heartbeat if you disrespected her badly enough—sorry, sorry, I’m bad at shit like this. My life usually isn’t this complicated.”

 

“I’m making her feel like she’s not good enough to be here?” James asked, and Marlene nodded emphatically.

 

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Yes, that’s exactly it! Stop doing it.” They both glanced across the room where Remus and Sirius had cornered Lily and Remus was forcing her to try caviar. “But wait until after this dance is over, our mums would kill us if we didn’t put our ballroom lessons to good use.” 

 

The pair of them twirled into the sight of their friends, and Lily watched James and Marlene sway effortlessly to the tune of a waltz they barely knew was playing. Remus had taken his caviar and gone to torture Peter, but Sirius was there to watch as Lily realized that Potter wasn’t just the name of a cheeky schoolboy. Crowds parted for him, shopkeepers knew his grandfather, his DNA held the key to a high security vault at Gringott’s. He could fucking waltz. Marlene, and Sirius, and even Remus were part of this world, but Lily was just a girl from Cokeworth who couldn’t even dress herself for a party.

 

“I know that look,” Sirius said, startling Lily out of her own head. “Stop it, that’s the face I’m supposed to be making.” 

 

Lily rolled her eyes. “So you have a monopoly on looking uncomfortable?”

 

“No, I have a monopoly on looking _morose_. Nobody does brooding like the Black family.” Sirius demonstrated accordingly. 

 

“You make it so easy to forget how much I hate you,” Lily said, and Sirius over-dramatically changed his expression to one of horror.

 

“There’s no need for sarcasm,” he said, and then looked sideways at Lily, who was still leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. “I just wanted to congratulate you for reminding Lestrange what a prick he is. And to ask you why you’re being a buzzkill.” 

 

“People are looking at me like I’m an alien species.” 

 

Sirius laughed. “You are! Young, pretty, not a member of a book club that serves weekly dinners at 3pm. These people haven’t seen legs like yours since the stocking shortage hit during the last war.” 

 

“But everyone else—“ 

 

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Sirius said. “The ‘everyone’ you’re referring to is James, let’s not be coy. The reason he fits in is because he’s James, not because he has some sort of fucked up birthright. Look at me, I have all the trimmings and I’m bloody useless at making these ‘respected elders’ happy. He could charm the pants off of anyone even if he were a homeless Muggle.”

 

Lily looked slightly mollified. “No amount of charm will convince some of them,” she said. “It was really fucked up to get called a—you-know-what in the middle of Christmas party.” 

 

Sirius turned to face Lily, suddenly earnest. “Look. James is a beautiful, naive little idiot who doesn’t expect this to happen because he doesn’t care about blood purity and he can’t imagine why anyone else would either. And all these bigoted old women who bake him lemon squares and pinch his cheeks never let on that they’re absolute hags. He’s probably being insensitive because he just didn’t imagine there was a problem.” 

 

“I wish I could forget about it that easily,” Lily said. 

 

“I can arrange that,” Sirius said, holding out his hand. “Miss Evans, will you do me the honor of accepting my hand for the upcoming dance?” 

 

Lily scratched her head and searched the rest of the room, pretending to eye some of James’ preteen acne-ridden second cousins hopefully. “Ugh, I guess.” 

 

They breezed past several older couples on their was to the center of the room, and it took Lily a beat to realize they weren’t actually staring at her. Sure, Sirius Black had a Muggleborn on his arm, but the fact that he was showing his face, let alone the dancing, _that_ was sparking most of the whispered conversations. 

 

“I’m giving you warning now that I have absolutely no idea how to dance,” Lily said, soft enough that just Sirius could hear her under the music. 

 

“Consider yourself lucky it’s one of the few things my parents managed to teach me before I ran away and besmirched the ancient name of Black.” And Lily couldn’t even find the time to retort before he’d grabbed her waist and started swinging her around the floor. 

 

Surprisingly, (to Lily, at least) Sirius wasn’t lying about his dancing ability. After two songs performed by the enchanted string quartet Lily was so dizzy she trod on his toes. “I’m going to throw up on you,” she said breathlessly, another laugh bubbling out of her throat as he threw his arm out dramatically. 

 

“Don’t worry, we’d still be the hottest couple in this party,” Sirius said, although he did slow down a bit. Lily pinched his shoulder, hard, and he yelped. 

 

“I’m happy to be of service to your reputation, but I’d feel bad if I didn’t let you know that the idea of us as a couple doesn’t help my nausea.” 

 

Sirius turned and gave Lily an elaborate bow as he said, “You’ve insulted me too much to continue. Time for a refreshment.” 

 

It turned out James (and, by extension, Remus) had been guilted into a “conversation” with Margery Whitcombe by his mother, who told him if he didn’t have plans to do anything but lean against the wall awkwardly she’d like it if he entertained some guests. Sirius carefully extracted him from a fifteen minute rant on the incompetence of the owls from the Diagon Alley branch of the Post Office by slopping champagne all over her and insisting that she go see “my friend Peter, a genius with household spells, he’ll have you cleaned up in no time!” 

 

Once Margery was lost in the crowd, Sirius turned to James with a grimace. “Isn’t that one of those Blood Purists your mum went to school with?” 

 

James turned white. “Fuck, what did she say to you? Every time she comes over for tea I tell her about Lily and Mary’s marks and how those boys from ‘good families’ are—“ 

 

“You talk about me at tea?” Lily asked, holding a glass of Elvish wine and still breathless from her time spent stepping on Sirius’ toes. 

 

Before James could start spluttering at an attempt to answer, Remus had starting marching Lily away from the masses of guests. “If you want to drink that, and I know you do, we have to do it in the cloakroom. Euphemia has a strict champagne only policy when we’re in public, and just because Sirius drinks like a fish at these things doesn’t mean I want to get a lifelong ban.” 

 

“I could just drink it fast,” Lily protested, trying not to spill anything as James helped pick up the pace towards the cloakroom. As they passed, small groups of guests started to whisper again. James was on his way out with Sirius Black’s dancing partner, with Black right behind him, and by the next day at teatime every witch in Britain over the age of 70 would hear all about it. 

 

They eventually made it to their destination, where Lily settled in among a nest of cloaks, undoing the straps of her shoes and rubbing the soles of her feet. Remus and Sirius left quickly after conferring with James, saying something about how Marlene would murder them if she found out they were hiding without her.

 

James settled down next to Lily, reaching for her glass and taking a sip. “I didn’t come to this to get drunk, you know,” Lily said softly. “I can do that at the dumb parties you throw in the Common Room.” 

 

“Why’d you come, then?” James asked, hesitant.

 

Lily paused, taking a sip to mask the careful consideration of his question. “You talk about your family and your house all the time, like it’s your favorite place in the world. I guess I came to see what it was like. And because you’ve been holding my present hostage.” 

 

James started. “I forgot we promised to do that! I have it here,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a long, thin box.

 

“How’ve you got all that in your pocket?” Lily asked as James handed it over. She pulled out her wand and summoned an envelope from inside her cloak, hanging neatly on the other side of the room. 

 

James shrugged. “Undetectable Extension Charm. Mum puts them in all my jackets, so I’ve always got first aide supplies and the like. She doesn’t like it, but she knows what we all get up to and figured it was better to be prepared.” 

 

Lily didn’t respond; she was too busy staring at the open box in her lap and trying not to laugh. “A scarf?” she asked, managing to sound puzzled and not incredulous. 

 

“This is why I wanted to be here when you opened it,” James said. He shifted so he was sitting cross-legged in front of Lily, her discarded shoes on either side of his knees. “I’ve never seen you wearing a Gryffindor scarf at our Quidditch games, and I always wondered why until I remembered they’re usually hand-knitted and… it sounds weird, now I’m saying it out loud. I guess I just thought you look cold, sometimes, and you don’t have a House scarf so I made you one.”

 

By this point, both parties were furiously red. Lily ducked her head under the pretense of examining her gift and James tried not to watch too closely. “You knit?” she asked, to break the sudden silence.

 

If it had been possible, James would’ve turned redder. “No!” Sirius had told him she was going to figure it out. “No, there’s household charms that aren’t too hard to learn and I just—“ 

 

“You knitted for me!” Lily said, and there was a glint in her eye as she laughed that reminded James exactly what all those hours of cursing at tangled yarn were for. 

 

“Shut up and thank me,” James said, unable to keep the grin off his face as Lily did just that. 

 

“Now open yours,” Lily insisted, not shy but cautious. “And tell me you like it even if it disgusts you.”

 

James slid open the envelope and pulled out a card, snorting at the doodled “Merry Hippogriff” that declared “God Rest Ye!” on the front. He then slid out a piece of parchment and became utterly baffled. “Are these the notes you took for the Charms essay?” 

 

“Turn them over,” Lily said, and when James did he revealed a drawing of Hogwarts so detailed and intricate the only thing he could do was blurt out “how long did this take you?” 

 

Lily knotted her hands in her scarf nervously. “Not that—I mean, I do it anyways, during class. So it wasn’t that big a deal.”

 

James ran his hands over the drawing’s many windows and turrets, marveling at the accuracy of it. “It’s incredible.”

 

A pleased sort of smile spread its way across Lily’s face, and she pointed at a small figure on the grounds. “I put you in it, just there. And your mates, plotting behind Greenhouse 3.” 

 

“Those are dangerous plants, I’m shocked you think so poorly of us,” James said, pretending briefly to be aghast. “Thank you. Really. This is— I don’t even know how you managed this.” 

 

“I mean, you did knit for me, so I think we’re even.” 

 

The quiet that followed wasn’t painful as it had previously been between them. It was instead a warm silence that persisted as Lily ran her hands over her scarf and James studied the intricacies of his little Hogwarts. “Happy Christmas,” Lily said suddenly, startling James. “Sorry, I just realized we’d forgotten that part.” 

 

James grinned, barely looking up from his study of the tiny shingles on the Astronomy Tower. “Happy Christmas.” 

 

“Did your parents ever tell you about Father Christmas?” Lily asked absentmindedly.

 

“Of course they did,” James said. “And his enchanted sleigh and his Time Turner—“ 

 

“Hold on. Why did Santa have a Time Turner?” 

 

“Well, how else is her going to deliver all those gifts in one go? It just makes sense…” 

 

By the time the party was over, Sirius, Remus, Marlene, and Peter had all joined the Christmas debate, which started with the Time Turner and ended with the question of whether Rudolph’s nose was a result of Transfiguration or if he’d been born that way. The argument had migrated into the main room once James had declared a snack truce as a ploy to use nearby guests as a polling group, and neither side was any closer to winning when Marlene decided it was time to call it a night. 

 

“My mum would think it was suspicious if I stayed any longer than is proper,” she said as they made their way back to the cloakroom. “And yes, Black, suspicious means what you think it means.” 

 

The four boys walked them out, Sirius lamenting the fact that Lily had the world’s highest alcohol tolerance, which made it impossible to convince her to do karaoke. “Fun Lily is now officially dead,” he said, his head bowed, and Remus hit him.

 

“We’re taking the Knight Bus,” Marlene informed the group once they’d reached the gate. Lily had her red and gold scarf wrapped around her neck. One edge was already fraying. “So, goodbye I guess. This is weird. You guys are weird.” 

 

“It’s not like we aren’t going to see you back at school the day after tomorrow, we didn’t have to walk you out,” Peter grumbled under his breath. 

 

Lily was still quiet. “Goodbye then,” James said, barely remembering too look away from Lily and direct it halfway at Marlene. “Thanks for coming.” 

 

“Tell your mum it was wonderful,” Lily said. Marlene snorted, and Lily stuck out her wand arm before she could make anything worse. The four boys stood outside for a while after, scuffing their feet at the snow and wondering who wanted to be the first to go in and help clean up (it was Remus). 

 

Once all the baubles were carefully packed away, Euphemia presented James with a handful of photographs. “I thought you might like these. I had your father brew the developing potion as soon as everyone left,” she said, kissing his head and going to take the pins out of her hair. He shuffled through them, seeing images he hadn’t even known anyone had captured: he and Sirius rolling their eyes in between greeting old ladies, he and Marlene twirling idly around the dance floor, and, strangely, two copies of one snapped during the Great Rudolph Argument.

 

They were all gathered around the dessert table, talking animatedly. Except, in the photo, Lily is looking only at him, and she’s waving an éclair and demanding his surrender, and James is laughing at her escaping hair and flushed cheeks. 

 

And then, at the very bottom of the stack, there is one of just Lily. It was taken over James’ shoulder as he showed her the portrait of one of his more voluptuous great-great-grandmothers. Her eyes were shining in her laughter, and she was nearly choking on her glass of champagne, trying to cover the damage discreetly with one hand and having absolutely no luck. James watched the picture, grinning as the miniature Lily spit a little bit of her champagne onto the floor from laughter. That dress had nearly killed him. There was something about that green material, shimmery as though it was a mirage, dark against whatever freckles still remained from the Summer Holidays.It was the neckline that had really done it, though, the way it kept going down and the diamond at her throat went with it and—James had done an admirable job of keeping his eyes on her face. 

 

But the picture was lovely, one that captured her perfectly, and made him wonder whether or not his mother was paying this photographer enough. He took the pictures up to his room, and before he could stop himself he’d written a letter.

 

..

 

Lily, 

 

Thank you so much for coming. I honestly thought you’d skive off, but then I remembered I’m talking to a shiny prefect and I should know better than to think you’d bail. 

 

My mum had someone taking pictures, and there are some good ones with you in. I figured I’d send them before you leave so you can pack them. Or not pack them, if you want. All I know is if they go into my trunk, they’ll never come out. 

 

James

 

..

 

He’d slid in a group picture, and one of him leading her around pointing gleefully at a broken vase, and the one with Lily waving the éclair. And then, at the bottom, the picture of just Lily, on the back of which he had written: _My mum was right about one thing: I forgot to tell you that you looked lovely. JP_. 

 

And then he sent Agrippa out the window before he could rip the whole thing to shreds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> college is so hard. but i'm pressing on!! keep on keepin on until i've kept on all the way till spring break. still love me some lily and james though, so anyways i hope u enjoyed this chapter and pls leave a comment if you did (or if u didn't tbh, roast me if u want) 
> 
> also lol the dress lily wore to the party is highkey the dress i wore to my prom so if you want to you can envision her in the dress that YOU wore to prom (or the jumpsuit or, honestly, the tuxedo, she'd look bomb in a tuxedo)


	6. chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's the end of the beginning!! we made it, ladies and gents!!! and what better to mark the end of the beginning than another party, another fight, and a valentine's day trip to hogsmeade? probably so many things, but too bad, because this is what you're getting
> 
> anyways, we made it! way to go, us!

the train again

 

Mary, as usual, gave Lily a ride to King’s Cross after Christmas in a new wool coat and, at her mother’s insistence, muffler and gloves. As she and her mother declared, they were still full from their weekend in France and couldn’t possibly accept the biscuits Lily had brought with her. Mary then checked to make sure her mother wasn’t looking in the rearview mirror and stuffed an entire gingersnap into her mouth. She made rapid hand motions that indicated Lily was supposed to make small talk to mask the sound of chewing, and Lily reluctantly obliged. 

 

“How was France? Mary mentioned in some letters that the villa was lovely.” Mary squeezed Lily’s hand in appreciation as Mrs. MacDonald began to describe the fine sconces they’d seen in the parlor. Once she’d swallowed her biscuit, however, Mary was quick to change the subject. 

 

“Lily went to a party at a famous manor, didn’t you? How were the… ah, what’s the word… _sconces_ there?” 

 

“Oh, well, I didn’t get the extended tour, but I’m sure dreary old England couldn’t possibly compare to France.” Lily hoped fervently for Mary’s mum to begin discussion on crown molding, but it seemed she was out of luck.

 

Mary grinned, looking not unlike a cheshire cat. “Well if you weren’t taking a tour, how _did_ you spend all your time at the party?”

 

“Now, Mary, don’t pester her. I’m sure she had a lovely evening and that’s that.” Lily silently thanked Merlin for Mary’s mother, looking desperately out the window at the streets of London, searching for another topic of conversation.

 

It came to her all in a rush, and she patted Mary’s knee before saying in a rather carrying voice, “did you know Wizards dance the waltz? There are some boys in our year who are quite good, but I’m sure you could give them a run for their money, Mary.” 

 

This started Mary’s mum on a rant about Mary having giving up her dance lessons and subsequent refusal to attend her work parties. Lily knew Mary’s hatred of ballroom dancing was due to the fact that the opportunities for small talk made her nauseous, but her mum just thought she was determined to disgrace her family name, a rant that Lily never tired of hearing. This particular tirade lasted until they pulled up to King’s Cross and Mary practically launched herself out of the car. 

 

“You don’t have to come in, Mum, I know you hate getting onto the platform.” Mary’s mum smiled gratefully and hugged Lily, then her daughter. Lily started pulling her trunk out of the car while Mrs. MacDonald spoke gravely and quietly to Mary. “I love you too, all right? Now I have to go, else I’ll miss the train.” 

 

Lily gave a small parting wave, and then her and Mary were pushing their heavy trolleys through the crowded station, almost knocking over a family of tourists trying to figure out which train would take them to Gatwick. It seemed they were looking for Platform 10, and Lily and Mary used them as a cover to slip through the barrier, taking the brick wall at a run and emerging in a cloud of steam and noise.

 

Once they’d gotten out of the way of the barrier, Mary rounded on Lily. “You just _had_ to get her talking about the foxtrot again—“ she started, eliciting an audible groan from Lily. 

 

“Look, I don’t want to have to convince both you and Dorcas nothing happened at that party unless I have Marlene for backup. We wait until we get into our compartment.” Lily peered in to check on the cat before hoisting her things onto the train.

 

“Just promise me when you have sex in his childhood bedroom—“

 

“Mary!”

 

“ _Promise_ me you’ll tell me right away, and not a second later,” Mary insisted.

 

Lily, with great effort, managed a “fine” before turning on her heel and stalking down the corridor to find Marlene.

 

“Don’t blow anything up!” Mary called cheekily from behind her where she was still trying to drag her trunk onto the train. Lily ignored her until she found their compartment, empty save for Marlene and a rather brave Hufflepuff Fifth Year. Lily waited outside the door as Marlene let him down gently, fervently grateful that Dorcas was always late. It gave her ten more minutes to brace herself for Mary’s inevitable interrogation. 

 

At 10:57 Dorcas stumbled into the compartment with Hector firmly in tow, cursing Carrie for making them so late. The freckled First Year jerked his hand out of Dorcas’s and spat “I’m going to find my own compartment, thanks.”

 

“None of his friends went home for the holidays and I had the nerve to suggest he sit with us,” Dorcas explained wearily as her brother escaped down the corridor. “You’d think hanging out with older women would boost his social standing, but apparently that’s not the case.” 

 

Marlene snorted. “Who are you calling women?” 

 

“Why didn’t his friends go home?” Lily asked, ignoring Marlene altogether (as they usually did). 

 

“Hufflepuff is mostly Muggleborns, and their Head of House doesn’t want them travelling unless they absolutely have to.” Dorcas threw herself onto a seat. “He was gutted, they were supposed to have a holiday party, or whatever boys call it these days. Mum even promised they could have butterbeer.” 

 

Mary had found her opening, and Lily knew what she was going to say before she said it: “I heard Lily and Marlene had something stronger than butterbeer at Potter’s.” 

 

Dorcas brightened considerably. “Ooh, I forgot! Tell us all about your role as Guest of Honor at Potter’s famous Christmas party.” Marlene snorted once again, but sobered when Mary shot her a pointed look. 

 

“It was fine,” Lily said, already uncomfortable. “Uneventful, really. James and Sirius showed me around while Marlene stuffed herself, and then we danced a little and tried to avoid socializing. It was nice. I, um… I had a good time.” 

 

“You did not! Lestrange harassed you halfway through and then you and James argued about reindeer for hours,” Marlene burst out. “It was all very angst filled, I wouldn’t reduce it to a ‘good time.’”

 

“I haven’t thought about Lestrange in years,” Dorcas mused. “Didn’t he used to—“

 

“Pal around with Sev? Yeah. He called me ‘Snape’s Pet,’ it was charming.” Lily watched Mary’s expression carefully. “Even the old ladies were blood purists, it was a lot to handle. Black talked me out of hexing them all.” 

 

“And Potter?” Mary prompted.

 

“He was a perfect gentleman, despite the fact that he was grossly wrong about Rudolph,” Lily said. “But nothing more than that, really.” 

 

“More than what?” James asked suddenly, pulling the compartment door open and squeezing in, with Remus and Peter close behind. 

 

“Lily’s telling us every embarrassing thing you did the other night, it’s very enlightening,” Mary joked, easy, and Lily felt a swell of affection for the three boys. Or, come to think of it, lately the feeling wasn’t so rare. 

 

James grinned and shot Mary a rude gesture. “Thanks for that, now I’ll be going over every interaction I’ve had for the past two weeks. But we can’t stay long, we promised Sirius we’d tell as many people as possible about the New Year’s party he’s throwing. It’s in the Common Room, Hogsmeade age only, all houses but Slytherin allowed. Bring your… all your friends are already here.”

 

Lily could’ve cursed Sirius. She’d had fun at his wild rampages before, sure, but it nevercame without a healthy serving of regret. This regret, of course, usually lasted way too long and made Lily’s life a living hell, which was exactly what she didn’t need. 

 

“Don’t worry, we will,” Marlene said brightly before Lily could think of a polite way to decline the invitation. And just like that, the boys left as quickly as they’d come. 

 

And then, as she expected, Lily spent the next three hours answering questions about the party and telling Mary off for reading too much into every response. “There’s another party tonight, and I’ll be there again to interrogate you when it’s over…” Mary trailed off as Caradoc Dearborn stuck his head into the compartment to ask if they wanted to play Exploding Snap. 

 

That seemed to pass the time as well as anything could, their compartment filling to the brim with Caradoc and the other 7th year Ravenclaws. The pure noise of it, as well as the noise of the feast, kept Lily’s mind occupied and largely off of the impending doom of alcohol in the Common Room and James’ cryptic letter from the night before. Which, she was refusing to admit to herself, had been nagging at her all day. It meant nothing. He was just a mate, and there was no way she was going to fuck that up by telling him he looked fit in his dress robes. Not that she thought he was fit, she hadn’t even noticed his robes at all. 

 

As Lily continued silently arguing with herself, Dorcas, Marlene, and Mary spent the evening gossiping about Calvin Armstrong, who’d been sent to Durmstrang to visit his cousin over the holiday and had apparently transferred. 

 

“D’you think maybe he met a girl?” Marlene asked as she jumped neatly over a trick step. 

 

“No way,” Dorcas said, shaking her head. “It’d have to be a boy he fell in love with, Durmstrang is all blokes. And if I remember correctly, he wasn’t a huge supporter of Hogwarts’s gay community.” 

 

Mary’s brow furrowed. “You mean the community that consists of you, your ex-girlfriend, Sirius’ bi-curious nature and the rumors about Dumbledore?” 

 

“You forgot Benjy Fenwick,” Marlene said, but Mary dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

 

“No, he graduated.” 

 

“All I’m saying is Calvin didn’t stay for love, I didn’t need to reminder that as long as I’m at school they only girls I date will be in secret,” Dorcas said, exasperated. “And he’s not Bulgarian or Romanian or wherever the hell Durmstrang even is.” 

 

“Yuletide,” Lily said to the Fat Lady quickly, trying to get through he portrait hole and up the dormitory steps before anyone noticed. Sadly, Sirius was waiting in the Common Room to tell people the party had already started and there was no getting out of this one, Evans. 

 

So Lily did what social niceties and Marlene had stopped her from doing at James’ party and accepted the shot of Firewhiskey Sirius handed her. 

* * *

10 galleons

 

Sirius had always loved the Holidays. In his younger years, it had been a time where he could explore the castle, eat himself into a stupor, and get into copious amounts of trouble without seeing his family at all. Now, they were an excuse to throw and attend several parties during which it was socially acceptable to drink himself to oblivion. And New Years was the perfect excuse to hand Lily Evans his shot and pour himself two more. 

 

What ensued was, in fact, copious amounts of trouble. The difference this year was that Sirius didn’t find himself enjoying any of it. 

 

Halfway through the night as he and Remus were losing spectacularly to Dorcas and Lily at a game of Sloshed Quidditch (the Chugly Cannons, it seemed, were not much better than their sober namesakes). And as Lily had been loudly professing for her love for Sirius Black to anyone who would listen, Remus did what any sore loser would do and called her bluff. 

 

“Of course I love him,” Lily said fiercely. “He lets me pet his soft hair whenever I want, he hates everyone just as much as I do, and I’m better than him at everything. What’s not to love?” Remus, more than a little tipsy himself, waggled his eyebrows. Lily’s expression turned murderous. 

 

Sirius knew a thing or two about what happened when you brought Lily Evans to a party: 1) She drank everyone under the table without breaking a sweat, 2) she believed firmly in the power of platonic relationships, and 3) alcohol removed every semblance of impulse control from her brain and replaced it with the knowledge that she was always right. 

 

“Black and I are _friends_ ,” she said, and Sirius was reminded suddenly of the way she’d sat with her arm around him in Third Year when Reg had just been sorted into Slytherin, and the way she’d snapped at some Sixth Year who made kissing noises at them. He was then forcibly removed from that memory when Lily announced “I can prove it,” marched over to him, and asked if he wanted to make out to prove a point. 

 

Sirius had consumed just as much Firewhiskey as Lily had, and it seemed like a laugh, so he nodded and let her wind her fingers in his hair and slide her tongue into his mouth. It lasted for a bit, because Lily Evans was nothing if not thorough, and then she pulled back and looked at him questioningly. 

 

“Nope,” he said, and he wasn’t lying. Evans was cute, but she did not, and never would, do it for him. She was a good kisser, he noted with all intention of telling James, but that was about as far as his interest went. 

 

“Nothing!” Lily told Remus triumphantly. “We felt nothing!” And Remus, to his credit, took the moment in stride and congratulated Evans on winning a nonexistent fight. He then resigned in disgrace from the Chugly Cannons, convincing Marlene to vacate her seat on Caradoc Dearborn’s lap to take his place. As it turned out, Sirius was also kicked off his team because Lily had gone off determinedly _not_ looking for James and there weren’t enough people to play partners. 

 

He didn’t stay mad long, because James found Lily after only a few minutes of her very obvious waiting alone on the arm of a cushy chair. Sirius couldn’t help but be glad at the pleased way Lily’s face lit up when she saw him, the way he poked her red cheeks and she shoved his hand away with a cry of “James!”—and wasn’t there something he was forgetting? 

 

“Wormtail!” Sirius bellowed, because it did have something to do with Peter, didn’t it? “Something important is happening tonight.” 

 

Peter giggled weakly from his position under the couch cushions James had so carefully arranged a half hour before. “New year,” he said unhelpfully. “End of 1970…something.” 

 

And there it was, Sirius thought. James was supposed to be Lily’s friend by now, he’d bet 10 galleons on it. And Remus had promised they’d buy the expensive Chocolate Frogs with the good cards, and Sirius was still missing Barnabas the Barmy. 

 

“Oi!” he called, and when Lily looked up she was laughing at something James had said. “Are you and Potter friends?” 

 

“Yeah,” she called, and there was a collective “ooh” from whoever was sober enough to be listening or drunk enough to care. “Why?” 

 

“You might want to snog him and find out for sure, he’s got 10 galleons riding on it,” Sirius said, and then watched as Lily’s grin slid off her face like stinksap. 

 

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, all the drunken happiness that Sirius had worked so hard to cultivate gone from her voice. 

 

James was spluttering a little, too far gone to be entirely coherent. “I never—only joking—I wouldn’t—“

 

“WORMTAIL!” Sirius bellowed again. “The terms!”

 

Peter groaned and retreated further underneath his cushions.

 

“No matter,” Sirius went on, heedlessly ignoring the murderous expression on both Lily and James’ faces. “He signed it, and my dear old dad said you can never fake a proper signature—“

 

“Is everything just a fucking joke to you?” Lily burst out, and with that a row to end all others began. Sirius watched, struck dumb by the noise, as they were encircled by a crowd of onlookers. By the time Sirius was able to push himself to the front, they’d reached unforgivable territory.

 

"You're such an entitled piece of shit, you know that?" 

 

"What the fuck did I do wrong?"

 

"I can't even—my God, how do you not get it? You're the same juvenile prick you've always been, you just think now that you've got a Captain's badge and Mummy took in a runaway you're some kind of evolved being—"

 

“Excuse me for trying to help you—“

 

“I have _never_ needed your help defending myself—“

 

“Oh, so crying in the stacks of the library is a perfectly healthy way of dealing with your shit then, is it?”

 

“Healthier than the state of denial that you so conveniently whip out when anyone suggests your life might be anything less than perfect—“

 

“Denial? Oh, it’s so great to hear you accuse me of denial like you didn’t hang around Snape for _years_ pretending not to know the things he got up to—“

 

“This isn’t about him!”

 

James’ laugh was almost maniacal. “When isn’t it? When hasn’t his hope for a pity shag ever stopped him from manipulating you and cursing First Years and working for You-Know-Who?”

 

“Don’t you _dare_ reduce this to some attempt to get it my pants, I am _not_ an object!”

 

“Then why do you let him and all of his little friends treat you like one?” James shouted, breathing heavily. It was clear in the silence that came after his statement that James, and everyone else in the room, knew he’d gone too far. 

 

Lily took a deep, shuddering breath and unclenched her fist, revealing thin red crescents where her nails had dug into her palms. One of them oozed a drop of blood onto the carpet. “I hope your Mum and all her bigoted friends can afford to part with 10 galleons of their fundraising money,” she said, voice low, allowing Marlene to lead her up to the dormitory with Mary and Dorcas in tow. 

 

“Fuck you,” Mary announced at the top of the stairs, not to anyone in particular but to the party in general. She slammed the door behind her, and Sirius blinked.

 

“So who won the bet?” Peter asked into the silence of the Common Room. 

* * *

whispers

 

The blissful second between when Lily woke up and when she remembered what had happened the night before passed all too quickly, leaving her furious enough to wake up the whole dormitory as she dressed. In response to the noise, Dorcas groaned, turned green, and promptly threw up into her white wicker rubbish bin. Lily’s muttered “ _scourgify_ ” came with such an aggressive jab of her wand that it not only cleared up the mess but stripped the bin of its paint. 

 

“I brewed something,” Marlene said groggily, reaching into her bedside table. The vial she took out was scarlet, and Lily confiscated it immediately. 

 

“It’s supposed to be orange, you forgot the lacewing flies. Drinking this would literally kill you.”

 

“Can’t be much worse than I already feel,” Dorcas moaned. “Gimme.” 

 

“No,” Lily snapped. “Contrary to popular belief, I am not a heartless bitch and I’m not letting you poison yourself.” 

 

“So much for fun Lily,” Marlene muttered, and with that Lily turned on her heel and stalked out of the dormitory. 

 

Breakfast wasn’t much better; as soon as Lily saw James walk into the Great Hall she took her toast and went to eat in the empty Charms classroom, dragging Mary and Marlene with her. Dorcas, who had been left behind to have a morning strategy session with James and the rest of the Quidditch team, wasn’t sure which friends had gotten the better end of the deal. James’ temper was quick to flare up all through breakfast, and he kept them until the absolute last minute so that they all had to run to Charms, barely overtaking Flitwick to get into the door before the lesson began. 

 

The next period, a double Arithmancy lesson, didn’t produce any different results. Lily ignored James just as pointedly as he was ignoring her, and the behavior continued into Transfiguration. By the end of the day, everyone was so fed up that even Remus was hostile when James asked him if he could borrow some ink. 

 

Although the hostility died down with routine, the rift that had been driven between the Sixth Years had not: Lily was often holed up with Slughorn learning potions that weren’t in her textbook while James kept Sirius and Dorcas on the Quidditch pitch far past dark every night, working the entire team to exhaustion. Two weeks passed before Lily and James spoke one word to each other, but the terse “here” that James grunted while handing out pebbles in Transfiguration wasn’t exactly the apology that anyone had hoped for. When another two weeks passed without a word, they had all reached their breaking points. 

 

On the morning of Lily’s birthday, however, Mary and Dorcas had convinced Marlene to wait a couple of days before intervening. The idea was that maybe, if Lily’s birthday was the best one she’d ever had, she would just forget about the whole New Year’s affair and everything would go back to normal. It was a flawed plan, Mary had told Marlene, but it was worth a shot if it meant they didn’t ruin Lily’s birthday. 

 

Marlene decided to kick off the festivities by pelting a package at Lily’s face and shouting to wake her up. Lily weakly tried to cover her ears with a pillow, but Mary wrenched it out of her hands with a grin while Dorcas grabbed her quilt and yanked. Marlene, sticking to her guns, continued screaming. 

 

“DANCING QUEEN, YOUNG AND SWEET—“

 

“Get up, we’re having breakfast!”

 

“—ONLY SEVENTEEEEEN!” 

 

Lily groaned and rolled over. “Don’t wanna,” she mumbled into her pillow.

 

“FEEL THE BEAT ON THE TAMBOURINE—“

 

“Shut up for a second, will you?” Dorcas asked, perched on the end of Lily’s bed. “Sweetie, I know that he’s going to be at breakfast and you don’t want to see him.” 

 

Lily nodded into her pillow.

 

“But our job as your friends is to make sure you have the best birthday possible, which doesn’t mean bringing toast to the first lesson and pretending you’re not hungry until lunch. It means we’re going to eat pastries and tell everyone we know that you’re seventeen, and you’re going to come and be embarrassed by us.” 

 

“I don’t want to,” Lily said again.

 

“That’s it, I told Dorcas the nice approach wasn’t going to work,” Mary said, still holding Lily’s quilt aloft. “Marlene, grab her feet.” 

 

The struggle that ensued wasn’t a fight so much as it was all three girls trying to keep their grip on a wildly flailing Lily, until they gave up and dumped her unceremoniously onto the floor. “Put this on,” Dorcas said, throwing Lily’s uniform and her favorite Gryffindor sweater next to where she lay on the carpet. “We’ll be waiting for you in the Common Room.” 

 

Eventually, Lily stomped down the dormitory steps in her robes, almost knocking down a particularly scrawny first year carrying a cauldron full of schoolbooks. She walked past Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene without a word, leaving them to stumble through the portrait hole in her wake. 

 

When Lily saw the food, however, she softened. “Oh, I haven’t had waffles in ages,” she said, sitting down and reaching immediately for the syrup. Owls swooped in just as Lily was preparing her second helping, and a ways down the Gryffindor table a scuffle broke out as Sirius nicked a Prophet from a Second Year. 

 

“I just need to see the bloody date,” Sirius said, and with a mighty wrench he was holding the torn front page in his hands. “I knew it!”

 

Lily tried in vain to duck behind the marmalade.

 

“Oi! Evans! You’re seventeen now, care to buy us drinks?” Sirius had gotten up from his seat and bounded down to sit next to Lily with a sweeping Remus in tow. 

 

“You’ve been of age forever, buy your own booze,” Marlene shot back.

 

“Throwing a party, then?” Sirius asked eagerly, but Lily burst out with an oddly loud shout of “no!” before he could get his hopes up. “She speaks!”

 

Lily kept resolutely silent. 

 

Remus grabbed Sirius’ arm and pulled him forcibly back to their old section of table. “I’ll talk to you tonight on patrol, Lily. We’ll make it a right old party,” he called. Lily didn’t seem cheered by the prospect, so Mary pulled a package from her schoolbag and handed it to her excitedly. 

 

“Open it!” she said. “We all pitched in, so don’t expect anything else.” 

 

The box opened to reveal the most stunning watch Lily had ever seen. It was golden and delicate, the face covered with stars and planets and the band woven with strands of different colors to look like flowers. It was the kind of thing she expected to see resting on Mary’s mum’s dresser and told never to touch, or in a display case at some sort of estate auction

 

“It’s traditional to get a watch, so that part isn’t exactly original, but Mary knew a bloke who could do the band like we wanted,” Marlene said, her smug grin a stark contrast to Lily’s stunned silence. “Dorcas had to bribe Hector to draw the design since none of us could do it.” 

 

“I’ve only ever gotten you sweets from the shop in Cokeworth,” Lily burst out. “You can’t go around doing all this, I don’t deserve it!”

 

“Oh, put it on,”Dorcas said. “Seventeen would big deal even if I didn’t love all the Muggle chocolate you give out every holiday.”

 

Mary shoved a pastry onto Lily’s plate and another one into her mouth. “We have plans to make this the best birthday ever,” she said through the crumbs. “You could use a win.” 

 

Lily, looking uncharacteristically teary, fastened the band and held her wrist up to catch the light. “Fuck all of you, I’m never going to be able to buy you gifts as good as this.”

 

“Get Marlene a toe ring instead of a watch,” Mary said with a sly grin. Marlene declined to comment and instead pelted her with the currants she’d picked out of her scone. 

 

“Oi! Meadowes!” came a shout from down the table as Mary had begun to fire back using pastry crumbs. All heads turned to find James glowering at them and waving a folder. “Get over here, we’re talking tactics!”

 

“Not today,” Dorcas shot back. “I’m in the middle of something!”

 

“And we’ve got a match next week and plenty of reserves who want to take your spot—“ 

 

“I’m sorry, I’d love to listen to your argument, but I really can’t see past what an absolute prick you’re being right now,” Dorcas snapped, causing a gaggle of Second Years who had come to grab the bacon to snigger. “I’m sorry,” she said, turning back to the girls, “but I sat with him at lunch and dinner yesterday and all he did was tell me I’m playing shit without telling me how to play any better. I’m ready to wring his neck.” 

 

Lily had turned a deep, furious red and was seconds away from whipping out her wand until Sirius intervened. “Sit _down,_ Prongs, before both of your beaters quit in protest of their Captain’s fat head.” 

 

“Let’s go,” Lily muttered. When Marlene began to protest that they weren’t finished their meal, Lily gritted her teeth and handed her a piece of dry toast. “There, now let’s _go_.”

 

“I just don’t understand it,” Marlene said on the way out of the Entrance Hall and down the stairs towards the dungeons. “No, Mare, come off it, I’m tired of avoiding all the places he _might_ be! We’ve been going to lessons half an hour early with dry fucking toast because Lily can’t stand to be in the same room as him, and I don’t understand why.” 

 

“He said horrible things—“ Mary started.

 

“It’s nothing she hasn’t heard before, and I’ll thank you to stop putting words in her mouth,” Marlene snapped. “Look, Lil, I’m sorry to do this today of all days, but I’m done with this shit. Us leaving breakfast and ignoring him during lessons and treating the name Potter like it’s taboo has to stop. Forget it ever happened, have another go at him, I don’t care, anything to stop us walking on eggshells all the time.” And with that she set off, back up the stairs toward Ancient Runes. 

 

Lily looked a bit shocked, and when Dorcas put a hand on her arm and made to comfort her she stopped her short. “No, she’s right. I have to sort this.” 

 

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Dorcas tried again. “We had this whole ‘best birthday ever’ thing planned.” 

 

“Yeah,” Mary said, voice hard and bitter. “It’ll really put a damper on the festivities if Potter yells at you in front of the whole Common Room again.” 

 

“I’ve had worse birthdays,” Lily said, looking pointedly at Mary. Her hard demeanor immediately melted as she protested loudly that the food poisoning she’d given them in Third Year was mild and besides, the chocolate cake was worth it. Lily reminded her gently that she’d always preferred vanilla. 

 

This led to a tirade that lasted until Slughorn bustled into the dungeon, with Mary stopping in the middle of explaining the inferiority of all non-chocolate desserts as soon as the door burst open. James slid in looking sullen just as the lesson was about to start, but Slughorn was too busy adding flourishes to the instructions on the board to notice. 

 

“Today,” he announced grandly, “we will be brewing one of the most dangerous potions known to man: amortentia.” James could’ve sworn he saw Snape perk up out of the corner of his eye. “Now it’s not in your books, and for good reason, so I’ve given you the instructions on the board. And don’t try copying them, they’re charmed. I’d like you all to pair up—but don’t move yet! I thought, in the spirit of the potion, that I’d have you all pair up with a member of the opposite sex!” 

 

Mary darted almost instantly to work with Remus, while Sirius had strutted immediately over to a Ravenclaw who’d been batting her eyes at him all term. Lily, taking a deep breath to steel herself, ignored Snape’s attempts to make eye contact and stood awkwardly at James’ table. This left Dorcas to stomp over to Snape’s side of the room, muttering darkly about heteronormative bullshit. 

 

“Good luck, then!” Slughorn announced, as grand in his sweeping gesture as ever. 

 

“Are we really doing this now?” James asked, his tone curt as he set about building a fire underneath his cauldron. 

 

Lily fixed her gaze determinedly on the blackboard. “What do you mean by ‘this?’”

 

“Don’t play dumb, Evans, it’s beneath you. My mates have been pushing me to have a go at you and get it over with for weeks.” 

 

“And why haven’t you?” Lily asked, as innocently as she could.

 

James concentrated on a nonverbal summoning of water before he looked up to answer. “You know why.”

 

It was then that Lily, who’d barely managed to summon any to begin with, lost her patience. “No, I really don’t. Because you know me, and you know how hard it is for me to come out and admit I’m wrong, and you didn’t do anything about it but let us go around driving everyone mad, even on my fucking birthday.” 

 

James stopped measuring the necessary 250 grams of baking sugar. “ _You’re_ in the wrong?” 

 

“Yes,” Lily sniffed. “I thought that was obvious.” 

 

“Assume, for the purposes of this conversation, that I’m utterly obtuse.” 

 

Lily couldn’t help herself. “Oh, just this one conversation?” 

 

“Don’t get smart,” James said, stifling a grin. “Just explain.” 

 

“You were telling the truth,” Lily said, both sounding and feeling rather small. “You were horrible about it, but nothing you said wasn’t true. And I… well, I reacted badly, and I’m sorry.” 

 

James looked a bit shell-shocked. “I’m, y’know. Also sorry. For the things I said, and the way I said them, and—that bet really was a joke. It’s some stupid rule Sirius has, as soon as you put a price on something you can’t back out. I didn’t mean for him to actually draw up terms, and I certainly didn’t think he’d tell an entire party.” 

 

“That did have me feeling a bit… pass that knife, would you? I’m used to being the object of conversation among friends of friends.” Lily felt her eyes flick involuntarily to Snape, who was already looking in her direction. “His, um… his Death Eater friends know all about me. Last winter he came crying to me about how he had to tell them everything they wanted to know about me if he wanted to stick around, that if he didn’t they would make his life hell. He even mentioned how he got enough of that at home, so of course I accepted his apology and we went and had lunch. So I… What I mean to say is that you weren’t wrong, you were just an ass about it.” 

 

James did an admirable job of trying to hide the murderous expression he wanted to direct at Snape by starting to stir the potion. “They don’t know everything about you.” 

 

Lily grabbed the spoon away from him and moved it in the opposite direction. “They know enough,” she said, watching as spirals of steam emerged from the top of the cauldron. 

 

“They don’t,” James insisted. “They don’t know you hate treacle tart and that you’re always sucking on your quill, or that you study Muggle science in your spare time. And those are the best bits.” He coughed into his sleeve, turning even redder once Lily looked up from the potion. “Most importantly, you’re damn good at potions. Keep it up, I could use an O.” 

 

“Why can’t you get one yourself?” Lily asked, concentrating again on stirring.

 

“Can’t, not from Slughorn. He’d so far up your ass he can’t even see the rest of us, let alone the fabulous work we’re doing.” 

 

Lily shoved his shoulder and pointed at the board. “Shut up and stir. Clockwise, don’t fuck it up. Then you won’t get to smell your true love.” 

 

“We’re good then?” James asked, his head bent intently over the cauldron. 

 

Lily smiled. “For now.” 

 

She wasn’t surprised when the potion turned out perfectly, and although everyone else seemed determined to sniff the air as hard as they could for any clues about their love lives, Lily resisted the urge until she had her sample flask in front of her and was about to put the stopper in. It didn’t surprise her to smell old books and the meadow behind her house in springtime, but she did catch a whiff of something else, something she couldn’t quite place.

 

It wasn’t until she fell into step with Dorcas, Remus, Sirius, Mary, and James on the way to lunch that it hit her. The potion had smelled like James’ cloakroom. It was just then that James turned to her, laughing at some clearly awful thing Mary had said about Sirius’ Ravenclaw, and Lily could only think _oh, shit_.

 

“She might not be the smartest but she’s got hidden depths, okay?” Sirius said defensively, and the high whine in his voice jarred Lily enough that she remembered to smile back.

 

“She’s a Ravenclaw,” Mary deadpanned. “Intelligence is supposed to be her hidden depths.” 

 

They had all unconsciously matched each other step for step as they walked down the corridor, and if Lily wasn’t happy before, she was now fit to burst. Dorcas grabbed her hand and squeezed just in time for Remus’ expletive-laden description of Sirius’ God-awful potion, she had the feeling that everyone else was, too. 

* * *

dearborn’s

 

Although the drama within Gryffindor had subsided, that which was going on outside their Common Room was not. The Marauders resolutely kept up their shenanigans, because, as they maintained, what else was there to do? They couldn’t just watch empty seats open up in the Great Hall, gaps where students had gone home for funerals, or followed the tide and transferred to Beauxbatons or Ilvermony. Instead, they turned Flitwick’s mustache pink. It seemed to keep people’s minds off of things, even if that did come at the expense of several evenings spent folding instructional wand movement pamphlets. 

 

Carlisle Adams was gone by Valentine’s Day, his younger brother leaving a string of heartbroken girls. Emmeline Vance, the Head Girl he’d abandoned, looked more harried and overworked than most. Lily had taken it upon herself to double her duties as the senior Prefect, taking Remus right along with her. She thought maybe the stress of the extra patrols and scheduling work was what had made this bout of sickness so much worse than the usual bedridden day or two. The boys had to take him his lessons for a week, and after patrolling alone Lily had hexed Avery into the bed beside Remus. 

 

“I suppose I should say sorry but I don’t particularly think I had a choice,” Lily said as they watched Madam Dearborn try to charm away the vast amount of warts covering Avery’s face. 

 

Remus grinned, still pale but looking more like himself. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I missed out on all the fun.” 

 

“Speaking of fun, the boys wanted me to ask you if you’d prefer company tomorrow or if you’d mind some time alone. Sirius hasn’t seen Rosmerta in a while and he’s afraid is he skips another visit she’ll forget about him entirely.” 

 

“No, no, I’m fine,” Remus said, shifting on his pillows and waving Lily away. “Not just them, you go too. Everyone. I have to get my essay written, it’s three days late already. I won’t be much fun tomorrow.” 

 

Lily frowned and reached into her bag. “I hope you’re more fun today, you promised me a game of gobstones.” 

 

The next morning, after watching everyone set off for Hogsmeade, Marlene trudged up the stairs to the Hospital Wing, giving Avery a withering look before settling in next to Remus. “Before you yell at me for wasting my weekend hanging out with you, it was already wasted. I got set a beastly translation that’s going to take hours, and I hate working in the Common Room with just the Third Years. They stare.” 

 

Remus grinned. “This essay was due on Tuesday,” he said, raising his quill. Marlene snorted. “What?”

 

“Don’t pretend like you’re some sort of bad boy for turning assignments in late,” she huffed. “You’re not rebellious, you’re ill.” 

 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t have to write it,” Remus said. He ducked his head over the parchment in his lap. “I’m starting to think I do my best work in here.” 

 

Marlene snorted again. “I find that hard to believe, seeing as you can’t seem to shut up.” 

 

What followed was a companionable silence, interrupted only by the scratching of quills and, once, Madam Dearborn coming in to change the bandages on a nasty gash that wound its way around Remus’ ribcage, front to back. He hissed through his teeth when it was prodded. Once the new bandages were off, he gave Marlene a weary smile she knew meant he didn’t want to explain anything. 

 

Before Marlene was halfway done her translation, Remus set down his roll of parchment with a sense of finality that almost made her lose it. “Don’t even start,” she said before he could open his mouth. “I know this takes forever, but they’re advanced runes and I’m not a genius like you and all the rest of your mates. You’re just going to have to wait.” 

 

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” This was accompanied by a grin that was all mischief and none of the weariness that seemed to be wrapping around Remus in an oppressive cloud more and more often. “I was _going_ to offer you some help, but if you’re going to snap at me…”

 

“Please, you’re not in Ancient Runes anymore,” Marlene said, suddenly accosted with memories of bringing him their practice sets during Fourth Year, when he still managed a full course load. 

 

“I dropped because I couldn’t keep up with the conjugations, but I was always rather good at the vocabulary,” Remus offered. “Which, if I remember correctly, is what almost kept you out of the NEWT level classes.” 

 

Marlene slid the dusty book over to Remus. “Have at it then, Lupin, let’s see what you’ve got.” 

 

It took them an hour to complete the translation, about twice as fast as she could’ve done it alone in the Common Room. And this time, her sides hurt from laughing instead of her usual pounding headache. It turned out that the work went much faster when she was correcting Remus’ egregious errors instead of second-guessing herself every other word. It was nice, Marlene mused as she copied the translation onto a neat sheet of parchment, to have someone around who knew about runes. Or, at least knew enough to marvel at the sheer amount of work she was putting in. 

 

“A Curse Breaker, huh?” Remus asked, flipping absently through her textbook. “From what Sirius has told me, I assume your parents aren’t happy with that career path.”

 

Marlene shrugged. “They have my brother to fulfill all their dreams. I figure that lets me off the hook to do what I want.” 

 

“I remember Christian,” Remus said. “Bit of a stickler for the rules, but he did help us hide in a broom closet once when Filch was ready to follow through on his threats and actually string us up.” 

 

“That’s him,” Marlene said, signing her name at the bottom of the parchment with a flourish. “He loves the law, and the Ministry loves him.” 

 

“Why Curse Breaking, then?” Remus asked.

 

Marlene sighed. “There’s so much I want to see, you know? There’s so much magic out there that’s hidden in plain sight. Stuff that’s held up for thousands of years, runes we don’t understand and maybe never will. Also, I heard the parties in Egypt are absolutely fantastic, which is just icing on the cake.” 

 

“But it doesn’t come naturally to you?” Remus gestured at the many copied sheets of runes that littered the stark white bedspread. “All this?” 

 

“Of course it doesn’t, that’s how everyone else’s schoolwork is supposed to go,” Marlene replied, unable to keep the bitterness from entering her voice. “Lily and Mary spend ten minutes on an essay and it’s perfect, Sirius actively tries to fail, and our golden boy is somehow Quidditch Captain and top of the class. And to really kick me while I’m down, they’re all in Hogsmeade right now having a laugh while I muddle through another translation I’ll never understand.” 

 

Remus gave up trying to look somber and instead began to laugh. “What?” Marlene demanded, but he couldn’t catch enough breath to reply.

 

“You know why none of us take Ancient Runes anymore, right?” he asked finally. Marlene shook her head. “Because it’s fucking hard, that’s why. Sirius wouldn’t go near it with a ten foot pole because anything he doesn’t understand instantly scares him to death. And Mary’s tried runes, remember? She can’t tell the difference between instant death and a holiday card.” 

 

“The instant death rune is the easiest to—“ Marlene started, but Remus cut her off by laughing again.

 

“I know _you_ know,” he said. “You’re the only one who does. Your NEWT exam could genuinely kill us we’re so bad at this. You’re not stupid. It’s stupid of you to think that you are.” 

 

There wasn’t anything Marlene could think of to say in response. She let the words sink in for a bit, and with them a grin spread irrevocably across her face. Remus remembered suddenly what she was usually doing on Hogsmeade weekends, and wondered whose elaborate date she’d turned down to finish this translation.

 

“I used to fancy you, you know.” Marlene felt Remus tense beside her. “Before I realized I only go out with boys who don’t like me very much. I convinced myself I was in love with you.”

 

“Why?” Remus asked in a strangled sort of voice.

 

“Because you were cute, and quiet, and I thought I could make you like me. I could teach you to be like James or even Sirius, who are both off limits, and then we’d get married and live in a big house together and bake brownies on Sundays.” 

 

“That sounds nice,” Remus said quietly. “Not the— I don’t want to get married, but I’d like to live in a house with you.” 

 

Marlene smiled. “Yeah, that was the bit I always liked, even after I realized I didn’t actually want to date you. I just wanted to be your friend. And I wanted a mansion, and brownies.”

 

“I would _kill_ for some brownies right now,” Remus groaned.

 

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not bedridden, then,” Marlene said, stuffing her books into her bag and getting to her feet. “I’ll just nip down to the kitchen and get us some.” 

* * *

rosmerta’s

 

The contingent of Sixth Years that ended up at the Three Broomsticks were sick of all the couples snogging by the time their drinks had arrived. Half an hour later, as Sirius was whistling at Rosmerta to get them another round, both the couples and the disgust they inspired were still going strong. “I just don’t think you have a leg to stand on,” said Dorcas, flapping her hand in Sirius’ general direction. “I’ however, am a hopeless romantic. I shag in beds and broom closets like a proper lady, and I don’t appreciate all this public affection.” 

 

“I have plenty of leg to stand on—“ Sirius began, affronted, until Mary interjected with her chin resting on her hand.

 

“I seem to recall a certain someone getting caught groping Helena Silverback on the Third Floor staircase between lessons, so I’d say you’re all hands and no leg.” 

 

“I liked it better when you were mute, MacDonald,” Sirius said over James’ howling laughter. 

 

“And I liked it better when you were prepubescent and hadn’t tried to shag every girl in our year, so it looks like neither of us is getting what we want today,” Mary retorted. This rendered Sirius speechless for a long moment, a sight nobody had ever seen before, a half smile playing on his lips. 

 

“Speaking of shagging,” Lily interjected before Sirius could muster up a reply, “did you hear the Weasley’s had _another_ kid?” 

 

Peter choked on his butterbeer. “How many is that now?” 

 

“Three, right?” James said, slapping Pete’s back. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised, they were more like an old married couple than Alice and Frank!”

 

Sirius sighed. “I miss Arthur, he was a laugh. Always convinced Prefects not to give me lines, which is more than I can say for our current ones.” 

 

Lily pointedly ignored him. “Can you imagine having three kids? Merlin, you couldn’t even hold onto them all at the same time.” 

 

“I don’t know, I’ve always had a pretty good handle on my four,” Dorcas said. 

 

Mary rolled her eyes. “You know you’re not a mum, right? I don’t consider Stephen to be my child, that’s weird.” 

 

“I started babysitting them when I was eight,” Dorcas said, shooting Mary a sharp look. “And I was good, too. All you have to do is make them hold onto each other. It can turn into a fistfight, but I’m the biggest so I always won them.” 

 

James gasped and buried his face behind Lily’s shoulder. “Her tongue is _in_ his ear, I swear to God. I can’t be here, I have to leave.” 

 

“You’re so juvenile, it can’t possibly be that bad,” Lily said, shrugging him off and turning to look at the Valentine’s date to the left of them. “Oh, no, you’re right, that is so wet and so disgusting. We should walk back to the castle. Now, before that tongue moves somewhere else.” 

 

“Rosmerta!” Sirius called as everyone wrapped themselves in their cloaks. “How many Sickles do I have to wrestle out of my friends to pay our bill?” 

 

“You’ll be giving me twelve even for the boys. The girls drink for free.” Rosmerta

finished making a gillywater and held out her hand. Sirius scowled and handed her 12 Sickles while Mary stuck her tongue out at him from the door. 

 

“It’s because she hates you,” she said to Sirius on his way out, and at the first possible opportunity he shoved snow all down the back of her jumper. 

 

The sun was out, although the was snow on the ground, and the sic of them walked back to the castle ducking and weaving to dodge Sirius and Dorcas’ barrage of snowballs. Mary was also participating in the fight, but her aim was so poor that dodging was more likely to put you in the path of a projectile than staying put.

 

By the time they got back, Remus had been deemed well enough to be escorted to the dormitory by Marlene, but not well enough to eat in the Great Hall. That meant, to everyone’s delight, they were saved the torment of the Valentine’s day feast and instead got a private dinner in the Common Room, brought in by Madam Dearborn who wouldn’t stop fussing over Remus and had to be bodily thrown out of the room before anyone could start eating. 

 

In the months to come, that evening (which was spent eating themselves into a stupor and retelling their favorite embarrassing stories by the fire) was looked at as the last wholly good evening to come. They’d forgotten it then, as they laughed and piled whipped cream onto mugs of chocolate, that there was a war waiting to be fought. The rest of the year was neither blissful nor joyous, not the way a Hogsmeade weekend and a dinner with friends could be. 

 

The rest of the year had war hovering at its edges, and there wasn’t enough light to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when i kept complaining about how hard college is?? i won't do it again, but just know that i'm gonna keep plugging away at this monstrosity until i'm done. no abandonment, not even in the face of finals. fingers crossed.
> 
> anyways, pls let me know what you think of this chapter (good or bad, i'm up for anything)!! i hope you liked it but then again i can't have everything:)


	7. chapter seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which we contemplate the future, and wonder if it will ever really come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains lots of talk about death! pls do not read if that is uncomfortable or damaging to you!!! 
> 
> other than that it's just some general growing pains mixed in with a fair bit of angst and a quote from the movie ginger and rosa (you know the one, it's the one they use in every elle fanning jily edit.....bc i want this to be canon in edits as well as in the universe lol)
> 
> enjoy, etc

the beginning of the middle

 

If Valentine’s Day was the Last Good Day, the first in a long string of bad days began with McGonagall prowling around the Gryffindor table at breakfast, looking for Sixth Years to schedule career consultations. The meetings, which were to be scheduled at any point in the upcoming week, were conducted by each Head of House to ensure the tracks chosen just before O.W.L.s were working the way each student intended. 

 

McGonagall went first to James, Sirius, and Dorcas to make sure the meetings wouldn’t interfere with Quidditch. Sirius assured her that any time he was scheduled to talk about his future, a conflict would come up and he would be unable to attend. 

 

“Well then,” McGonagall said, opening up her planbook, “the detention you’ll receive from me for missing your appointment is at 5pm on Thursday. You should be looking forward to your punishment.” 

 

“Lines?” Sirius asked, mouth full of roast potatoes. 

 

McGonagall pressed her mouth into a thin line that vaguely resembled a smile. “No, Mr. Black. We’ll be having a talk about your career options.”

 

James snorted, choking briefly on his porridge. “I don’t know which is funnier, mate, the fact that it’s been six years and McGonagall can still handle you like that, or the fact that she thinks you’ve any future worth talking about.” 

 

“You’ll be joining us, Mr. Potter, but you’ll be cleaning off my blackboards.” And with that McGonagall moved down the table to set up an appointment with Peter. Dorcas spread jam onto her toast silently, with shaking shoulders that betrayed her laughter. 

 

By the time Thursday rolled around, Sirius was fuming. Professors had been piling on work faster than anyone could hope to complete it, and even if this usually didn’t bother him, the impending pity speech from McGonagall about his wasted potential would be even worse than usual. It wasn’t the threat of wasting his potential that had him in the library on Wednesday, writing a Potions essay. Sirius knew he was capable of more, he just didn’t want to hear about it all the time. 

 

He walked down the corridor with James, the two of them badmouthing Flitwick and the hours of spells they’d be practicing after their detention. “You can say whatever you want about his teaching, but when his voice squeaks into a register human ears can’t comprehend he can’t say it’s our fault for not listening,” James said, but Sirius had stopped listening the second McGonagall’s office door had burst open. Both boys watched as Lily said a polite “thank you” as she shut the door behind her, turned, and slammed her fist into the wall. 

 

Sirius ran forward before James had fully grasped the situation, steadying Lily as she cradled her hand close to her body. James wasn’t far behind, and he helped Sirius ease Lily out of his arms and onto the wall, where she slid down to sit on the floor.

 

She was crying, but mostly tears of frustration that dripped onto her blotchy cheeks. James sat down next to her and looked pointedly at Sirius. “You still need to go in,” he said. “I don’t think McGonagall will care that I’m not in, but she’ll skin you if you miss this meeting.”

 

Sirius nodded, feeling oddly cheered that someone else had the same sick turn of their stomach when they contemplated their future. And, he noted as he pushed the door open, whatever he said couldn’t be nearly as bad as leaving in tears and punching a wall. He was starting out ahead. 

 

“Mr. Black,” McGonagall said when he stepped through the door. “I assume Mr. Potter is dealing the with situation in the corridor. When you leave, please inform him that consoling Miss Evans is a fine substitute for cleaning blackboards.”

 

“Will do,” Sirius said, still standing in the doorway.

 

“Well, come in then. Sit. And have a biscuit.” 

 

“I’m alright,” Sirius responded. “I’d like to keep this as brief as possible.” 

 

McGonagall grimaced, a look Sirius knew all too well. “Why is that, Black? Please, enlighten me.” 

 

“We’re discussing my career, right?” Sirius waited for a nod before he continued. “Then this consultation is already over. I don’t want a career.” 

 

“That’s ridiculous,” McGonagall said, and Sirius wondered how on Earth he’d been able to predict this conversation so perfectly. 

 

He figured if he was going to convince her of his reasoning, he might as well be comfortable doing it. He finally took a seat and reached for the biscuit tin. “Not really,” he said after biting into a gingersnap. “People get jobs to earn money, which I already have, or for fulfillment in their long and tedious lives, which I don’t particularly want. So we’re at an impasse, you and I, because you want to discuss my future and I say there’s nothing to discuss.” 

 

“You mean to tell me that you’d like to do nothing but sit in your house, do you?”

 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t see this coming, Professor. You had to give me a detention to get me here.” Sirius had leaned back in his chair, sitting the way only he could: slouching, arms crossed, claiming total ownership over the space he occupied.

 

But McGonagall was no new teacher, and she was the genuine owner of the office. “Sit up straight, Black,” she snapped. “We’re here because you’re a talented wizard who has the potential to do anything you could possibly want. I drew the short straw, and it is my job to encourage you to use that God-given talent in the most productive way for not only you, but for society. I will not tolerate self-pity in this office, and I certainly will not tolerate nonsense.”

 

Sirius slowly uncrossed his arms and tipped his chair back onto four legs. “All right, then, let’s get this over with.”

 

“I’m only going to ask you this question once: what is it that you _want_?”

* * *

another corridor

 

James watched Sirius disappear completely into McGonagall’s office before turning back to face Lily. “Was it your magic?” he asked. Lily shook her head, her breathing coming in pained gasps. She pointed her wand at her hand, and with a murmur of _episkey_ , her bones set with a crack. 

 

“I’m just angry,” she said, now able to concentrate fully on the conversation. “This was a waste of my fucking time.” 

 

This information gave James a moment of pause. Lily was by no means a stickler for the rules, but she took her education seriously. The two of them were constantly in competition for top of the class, which didn’t rest entirely on natural talent. She worked just as hard for it as he did. “What d’you mean?” he asked, picturing a Lily as sullen as Sirius was on the way to the meeting. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

 

“I mean when McGonagall asked me what I wanted to do with my future, the only thing I could tell her was that I want to survive long enough to see it,” Lily said. “But that’s not a guarantee, is it? Especially not for me, not when everyone knows me as the Mudblood who was best friends with a Death Eater.”

 

James didn’t respond right away; he was torn between anger and a profound feeling of helplessness for a future he could not change. He stared pointedly at his hands as Lily started speaking once more. “I don’t want to die,” she said, and there were tears in her voice. “I want to grow up, and do things.” 

 

“I don’t…” James started, but trailed off when he heard Lily give a breathless laugh.

 

“Understand? Of course you don’t, you’re not on You-Know-Who’s hit list!”

 

James ran his hands through his hair before he remembered he shouldn’t. “That’s not fair. You know I have know control over who he hurts. You _know_ I’d take your place in a second if I could.” He paused, and a blush turned his ears just the other side of scarlet. “Or Mary, or any other Muggleborn.” 

 

“I know it’s not fair,” Lily said. “I know more than anyone. And it makes me so angry, and I don’t know what to do other than… well, you know.” She held up her hand. “I want to be planning my future. I want my only worries to be finding a flat that Mary and I can share on a shoestring budget, and who I want to apprentice with when I graduate. I want to own a potions shop or an apothecary, and I want to cure warts and brew Polyjuice Potion for practical jokes and I want to have lots of kids running around my feet, kids with eyes like my mum’s, or that smile like my dad. But I can’t have that, not while I’m fighting in this war. And I have to fight in this war, because if I don’t I can’t have any of that either.” 

 

James, whose anger had turned to a sick feeling in his stomach, did the only thing he could think to do and put his arm around her shoulders. Lily leaned back into him, without pushing away like he’d expected. “You’re not the only one who feels like that, you know,” he said. “I want to play Quidditch, and I want to go work for the Ministry, maybe make it a better place from the inside out like my mum. I want to fall in love and live in a cottage and raise an army of children so I can stage Quidditch grudge matches to see who has to clean up after dinner. But I’m not going to have any of that, not until after we’ve won this war.”

 

“I know it’s different,” he continued. “I get it. You’re giving it up because you have to, and you think I could still have all of that, even if I didn’t fight, but that’s not true. I can’t have everything I want. I want you there, too. I want to buy your prank potions and listen to Mary talk shit on Sirius and teach Remus how to tie a bowtie before his first day of work. We’re all going to fight with you. Hell, we can even share a flat on a shoestring budget, if that’s what you want. I’ll have my dad teach you everything he knows, and you’ll probably teach him a thing or two as well. And there is no version of my future in which you die. I won’t allow it.” 

 

Lily ducked her head, not sure whether or not she wanted to smile. “You’re sure? About fighting?” 

 

“That’s what I told McGonagall,” James said. “She put it in her file, said she had to send a letter to Dumbledore and said he wouldn’t be pleased with me.” 

 

“She told me that too, but I wasn’t in the best state at that point.” Lily grinned ruefully. 

 

“Yeah, you cry when you’re angry,” James said matter-of-factly. “How many times did she offer you a biscuit?:

 

Lily’s grin grew even wider. “Too many. And you know me, raised with impeccable manners. I think I ate around twelve before I started crying too hard.” 

 

“It’s a stoic cry, though,” James said, partially to make her feel better and partially because it was true. “She probably didn’t even notice, it’s like your eyes just start leaking and nothing else about your attitude changes. I kind of admire it.” 

 

“You would, you emotionless bastard,” Lily responded, replacing her head in the curve where James’ shoulder met his neck. She was too exhausted to pretend she didn’t like the way it felt. “D’you think we could stay like this for a little bit?” 

 

“On the floor?” James asked, and Lily could feel the words thrum in his throat.

 

Lily nodded, hair tickling James’ skin ever so slightly. “I need it to be like this, for five more minutes.” 

 

“And then what?” James asked, but Lily had already closed her eyes and he found he didn’t want to move. 

 

* * *

 

THE FILES: 

 

MARLENE MCKINNON: Remains steadfast in her determination to become a Code Breaker. Marks are adequate, her father and older brother’s connections in the Ministry are significant enough to grant her good placement. Capable, but needs an increase in confidence before any connections can be made. 

 

MARY MACDONALD: Sure of her desire to be a Healer. Needs to get her Potions mark up, even with the help of Miss Evans. Charms mark excellent, all necessary extracurriculars completed. Ready for training with the current Hospital Wing Staff. Expressed worry her blood status might complicate things, but she’s determined to focus on what she can control. She confided in me that she’s thought of leaving Britain to pursue Healing in a safer environment. We decided not to rule out St. Mungo’s because it’s one of the best teaching hospitals in the world, but is that wisdom or wishful thinking? 

 

PETER PETTIGREW: Top marks are in History of Magic, all other subjects are poor. The boy expressed interest in an entry level Ministry job of undetermined focus. He emphasized security and benefits, like the job his father has held for many years. The description seems like a good fit, but I’ll defer to you for recommendation of placement. 

 

JAMES POTTER: Last time we spoke about this subject he expressed an interest in playing Quidditch, which is not out of the scope of his abilities. This time, however, he wouldn’t hear another word about it and instead insisted on fighting in the war. He has top marks all around but is particularly proficient in Transfiguration, with the recent and rapid improvement in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I suggested he pursue a career as an Auror, but he told me if I couldn’t tell him where to join an army he’d form his own. I made clear that there will be no fighting while he is a student here, and convinced him to continue taking the necessary classes to become an Auror in case he changes his mind. 

 

REMUS LUPIN: You’re aware of the circumstances. He said he’d like to teach, that any subject would do, but he also understood why he can’t. I mentioned Damocles Belby’s experiments, as you asked, but he assured me that amateur potioneers have gotten his hopes up far too many times for him to fall for these claims. He’s doing well in school, and he’d be fit for any number of positions, none of which would have him. You know, I’m sure, that this meeting was a particularly hard one.

 

LILY EVANS: Excellent marks in all subjects, particularly Potions and Charms. When I referred to her O.W.L. consultation and asked if she’d given any though to which potioneer she’d like to apprentice with, she informed me that all she’d like from her future is survival. This prompted some tears. I think she said she’d like to fight, but I’ll admit that at this point in our discussion it was a little hard to tell. I believe she would benefit from knowing about our project, unlike Mr. Potter, but I’ll leave it to you to decide. 

 

SIRIUS BLACK: Impertinent. Headstrong. Largely insufferable, but in my position of authority I could hardly say it to his face. One of the most talented students I’ve ever taught, and he spent the beginning of the meeting insisting he’ll live on family money until he dies. As to what he wants to do with his life, he said he’d like to “kill every bastard who ever hurt someone he cares about,” and he said it with conviction. His marks are good enough to become an Auror, if he so desires, although we might have to pull some strings within the department. I suppose that has to be enough. 

 

DORCAS MEADOWES: Sweet girl. Known around the Professor’s Lounge as being earnest but not very bright, and her marks certainly reflect that sentiment. A good Quidditch player, and she seemed interested when I mentioned I could connect her with some scouts for regional teams. I still advised her on how to improve her marks; the only one that can stay is the E in Herbology. 

 

Albus, I’m worried. I’ve never had a batch of career consultations be so hard to get through. This particular year is full of extraordinary students under enough pressure to have broken them already. You know I’ll do all I can, but I’m afraid the majority of their future isn’t up to me.

 

MMG

* * *

no future

 

The next time Remus fell ill there was nobody in a good enough mood to cheer him up. Gryffindor had just lost in a startling upset to Ravenclaw, 170-160 (their new Seeker, it seemed, had stage fright), and the career consultations had gone just as well as everyone expected them to go. Other than Marlene, they’d realized that the only truth about the future was that it might not come. This meant that after Remus was laid up in bed after what Madame Dearborn was calling some obscure fever from Somalia that had a tendency to recur, Marlene was the only one at his bedside.

 

He slept while she did her homework, and when he woke up he would do his best to “help” with the trickier Runes. People never though of Remus as the funny one, but Marlene spent her time discovering that a sharp wit and a keen instinct for which Runes resembled sex positions was what would’ve proved everyone wrong, if they’d taken the time to get to know him. 

 

On this particular day, Remus had told James, Sirius, and Peter not to visit. It was supposed to encourage them to work on an essay for which Remus himself had received an extension, but of course that wasn’t how they ended up. They were instead in the Common Room, laughing uproariously and withstanding withering looks from the Seventh Years neck deep in N.E.W.T. preparation. It always started like this, laughter to mask the fact that they were all pretending not to notice the fear in the pits of their stomachs. 

 

Today it was Sirius whose voice was carrying over the room. He had his head in Lily’s lap and his feet in James’. Dorcas sat on the floor with her back pressed against James’ legs, still sore and wincing from a long practice. Mary and Peter were absent, having fled to the library in a last-ditch attempt to get Peter’s Divination grade into a passing range. 

 

“What is Pete passing, at this point?” Dorcas had asked, which launched Sirius into a long and complex discussion of Professor Binns, his teaching methods, and the time he’d caught some ghosts jacking off. 

 

“Don’t bullshit me,” Lily said, although she looked delighted. “No fucking way you’re saying that the Fat Friar could possibly—“

 

“Have you ever been to a Deathday party?” Sirius asked suggestively. He looked altogether too pleased with himself. “It’s a right old orgy.” 

 

Dorcas folded her left leg underneath her and bent forward into a deep stretch. “You’re definitely having us on, Black.” Her voice was strained and slightly muffled, as she’d pressed her nose into the carpet. 

 

“November 10th, 1972. It was a cold night, and we were looking for odd tapestries to add to our list, and we heard what sounded like a proper party behind the one of the four horses tearing the flesh off of the peasant—you know the one?—and, I dunno, we assumed it was a couple of Sixth Years and a bottle of Firewhiskey, so we went in.”

 

James snorted from his position on the couch, picking at a hole in Sirius’ sock. “The only thing behind that horse tapestry was a some Ravenclaws Peeves had just broken up using owl dung. The Fat Friar was nowhere in sight.” 

 

“Yeah, but Peeves was definitely getting off on it.” Sirius grunted as Lily rapped her knuckles against his forehead. “You can’t tell me you expect thousand year old ghosts to be pure and good for all eternity, Lily. That’s just not fair of you to ask.” 

 

“I’m not asking for fairness,” Lily shot back, unable to keep the grin off her face. “All I’m asking is that you keep thoughts like that to yourself. I think we’ve seen quite enough horrors already.”

 

That was how it started. That was always how it started. Everything was normal, and fine, and they could have a laugh with their mates about whatever nonsense they wanted. And then something reminded them of what was going on, and their soap bubble popped. An ugly silence descended over the four of them, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Dorcas stared at the carpet as though it was the most interesting thing in the world, while Lily lifted her legs out from under Sirius and curled them into herself, becoming small on the edge of the cushion. 

 

“I meant I didn’t want to think about our beloved House Ghosts shagging behind tapestries, is all,” she muttered, angry at herself more than anything else. 

 

“We know what you meant,” James responded, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. “It’s just hard to think about anything being unfair without thinking about—you know. Even Binns’ nonexistent sex drive can’t make that go away.” 

 

Sirius sighed, deep, and then sat up on the middle cushion of the couch. “You haven’t heard everything I have to say about the matter,” he joked, but it was halfhearted, and they all knew it. “The mood, however, is dead.” 

 

Dorcas rammed the small of her back into James’ knee to try and get out a knot, and he yelped. “It’s your fault it’s sore,” she muttered, and with that the four of them fell into an ugly silence, each of them giving it a few minutes, silently wishing the conversation would just pick up where it left off. But by the time Peter came back, being consoled by a cautiously optimistic Mary, they’d all gone up to bed get tomorrow started as quickly as possible. 

 

This attitude carried them all the way until Easter Break, which came as a welcome distraction to all the Gryffindor Sixth Years (especially coming as it did on the heels of a sound beating of the Hufflepuff House team). James had handed out another rather extensive training regimen to everyone for their week off, even the reserves, so they could strike Slytherin with the same spell of dejectedness that had bogged the rest of the school ever since Kellen Smith had flown the ball through her own hoop while trying to get away from a well-hit bludger. 

 

Sirius responded to James’ hopes by stuffing the parchment James had painstakingly copied it out onto down the toilet. Dorcas, without running the risk of pushing James any farther, gingerly slipped it into her cloak with a promise to put it into the fire first chance she got. 

 

They’d all decided to go home that year, after a fashion. Lily was staying at Mary’s and Dorcas wouldn’t have bothered but she was the sole caregiver at home, due to a paperwork fiasco that could only be sorted if her mum was in Belgium. All eight of them threw their rucksacks over their shoulders as the train slowed to a stop in London. Dorcas grimaced. 

 

“Hector is going to be difficult all week,” she said. “Lily, are you sure you don’t—?” 

 

“My dad said Muggle houses only for long term visits, remember? He’s worried about the war, especially since Mary’s mum felt it necessary to tell him that ‘our enemies are with us at school.’”

 

Mary looked indignant. “Don’t blame me, I didn’t make her tell your father about anything! The woman’s like a steamroller.” 

 

James let his hand fall onto Lily’s shoulder, but before he could ask she’d already started talking. “It’s a car with a giant metal thing on the front. Like a big metal rolling pin, for flattening things.” 

 

“Mary’s mother carries a giant rolling pin?” Peter asked, looking up from stuffing his jumper into what little room remained in his bag. Mary snorted, but after a sharp kick from Dorcas she turned it into as heartfelt a goodbye as she could muster. The holiday was, until the last night, rather uneventful. And then the Daily Prophet arrived at each of their houses with a picture of a freckly eleven-year-old, and the words KILLED IN HOME emblazoned on his chest. 

* * *

bloody monday

 

Dorcas didn’t show up for the train on Monday morning. Hector wouldn’t get in the car to drive to the station and Dorcas wouldn’t leave without him, so it was up to Carrie to reassure Marlene that with their special Floo compensation they’d be at school before the feast was over. They’d heard what happened, of course, and nobody made Carrie explain any further. 

 

“Sev spent the whole holiday staring at me, like he _knew_ ,” Lily told Remus after they’s conveniently been assigned first patrol at the Prefect’s meeting. 

 

“Are you sure it isn’t just the usual Snape bullshit? Remember when he begged Slughorn to make you permanent partners because he felt that your ‘emotional connection’ would help get better grades?” Remus had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his pinky finger sticking out of the hole in the left one. “He looks at you all the time, you know.” 

 

Lily looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Yes, Remus, I’m aware.” She rapped briefly on a compartment door to wave at one of the Second Year Ravenclaws she was tutoring in Potions. “I know his expressions. This one was different. He usually doesn’t look like he’s scared. Sad, maybe, but not scared.” 

 

“You realize you’re accusing him of murder,” Remus said, softening his voice as he passed by a open compartment door. 

 

“I’m not saying he did it,” Lily said quickly, eyes widening. “God, no, I wouldn’t—he’s a shit, but I don’t think he’d ever _kill_ anyone. I’m just saying I think it could’ve…maybe one of his friends told him about it.” 

 

“Someone broke into this boy’s house and killed his entire family,” Remus said slowly, forcing Lily to stop and look him in the eye. “You need to think about what that takes before you go around making accusations.” 

 

They arrived next to a compartment where the trolley had evidently just passed and two Fourth Years were evidently taking advantage of their alone time. After they’d been separated, Lily confiscated a flattened Cauldron Cake and tapped it with her wand. When nothing happened, she huffed and bit into it anyway. “You know I would never make light of something like this, not when they cast the Mark in a Muggle neighborhood. If anything, what I’m saying is worse. That You-Know-Who could be recruiting younger than we think.” 

 

“You think his fan club aren’t just fans anymore?” Remus asked.

 

“It’s what I’d do.” Lily walked off down the corridor without another word, leaving Remus standing alone, looking more lost than ever. They patrolled separately for the last 15 minutes of their shift, and when Lily arrived back at their apartment Remus wasn’t there and Sirius was already gone. 

 

“How’s Carrie doing?” Lily asked to the group, nodding a hello to Peter and James.

 

Marlene shook her head. “Better than Dorcas. Carrie never met him; apparently whenever he came over she was out. But Dor made the two of them lunch, the day before.” 

 

“Dumbledore’s going to give a speech,” Peter said. He was staring at his hands. “D’you think he’s going to tell us what really happened? Carrie wouldn’t say.” 

 

“Of course he isn’t,” Mary said quickly, trying to stop James from snapping at Peter. It didn’t work.

 

“He’s not going to give everyone a play-by-play about how a First Year got killed by Death Eaters and then remind us all to have a happy feast.” James started to ruffle his hair and stopped halfway through, glancing surreptitiously at Lily. “He might not even blame it on You-Know-Who.”

 

“Well what if it really wasn’t? The Prophet didn’t say.” Peter picked determinedly at his nails. “It could have been an accident, or something.”

 

Lily snorted. When Marlene fixed her with a look, she said, defensively, “what? They shot the Dark Mark above the house, how could he blame anyone else?” 

 

“How’d you know about the Mark?” Sirius said, sliding open the compartment door and stepping in, Remus on his heels. “Dorcas said the Aurors kept it quiet.” 

 

Lily turned very white very quickly. “I don’t…” 

 

“You do!” Sirius goaded. “You told Remus, too, on patrol!”

 

James started to protest, but Lily waved him off. “No, fine. You want to know why I know? He lives near me,” she said, voice small. The carriage was silent. “Not in Cokeworth, but the next town over. People were talking about it at the store, how the fire that killed the Deacon family had some sort of green shimmering smoke that lingered above the house in odd shapes. I put two and two together.” 

 

James had gotten up to stand next to Lily, and she let him lead her to an open seat. Sirius started pacing back and forth in the open space, listening to Pete recount the question of what Dumbledore would say. “He better not just sweep it under the rug,” he said, voice verging on excitement. “The whole school will have to pay attention to what’s going on, no more heads in the sand.” 

 

Marlene turned sharply. “Are you seriously trying to use this as an inciting event?” 

 

The train shook a bit, as though it, too, was gearing up for a row with Sirius. “I don’t see why you’re taking offense to that. Shouldn’t this boy’s death mean something?” 

 

“His name was Kevin,” Mary said, quietly, from her perch by the door. “And you don’t get it, not even a little bit.” 

 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Then explain it to me.” 

 

“You won’t shut up about how you want everyone to _fight_ ,” Mary spat. “You’re just itching to sign up and be a brave soldier, and win the war.” 

 

“And what’s so wrong with that?” 

 

Lily had shrunk back against James, her white face now a bright flaming red, and James was glowering at Sirius. “Mate, don’t,” he said, but Sirius pressed on.

 

“Daring, chivalry, that means we rebel! And when we fight, if we die, then we did our job.” 

 

“What matters is that he had no idea what he was getting himself into! And then all of a sudden, his future is destroyed and everyone he cares about is dead, all because someone told him he could do magic tricks.” When Mary finished she was breathing heavy, eyes wild. Somewhere during the middle of her speech she’d stood up and was facing Sirius, her chin tilted up so her eyes met his. 

 

“Well that’s war, isn’t it?” Sirius said, and when the corner of his mouth quirked up it was a challenge. 

 

Mary laughed in response, a quick exhale of breath, and she jutted her chin even higher. “How the fuck would you know?” she said, voice even and biting, before she turned and left the compartment.

 

A long moment of silence followed Mary’s slam of the door, before Sirius scoffed. “Well she’s having a bad day, isn’t she?” 

 

“No,” Remus responded, fists barely containing a white-knuckled rage. “I don’t think she is.” 

 

“Dorcas is usually the one we send after her,” Marlene said quietly. “Nobody else knows what—“

 

Peter coughed. “I’ll go. D’you know which compartment she might be in?”

 

“Why do you all care so much? Just let her cool off, she’ll come around. We all want to fight. Even Lily said so, and she didn’t ‘sign up for this’ either.” 

 

Lily shook her head. “He lived one town over, Sirius. What if they’d picked Cokeworth and killed me? Would you be raving in some other compartment, trying to get more people killed in my name?” 

 

Her eyes were dry but her voice shook, so badly that when she was done speaking she gulped for breath. James extracted his arm from his side, looping it around her shoulders. “I think you’re the one who needs to cool off, Pads,” he said with a squeeze of Lily’s shoulder. “Preferably somewhere else.” 

 

“You’re fucking kidding,” Sirius said. When Remus assured him that he was not, he slammed the compartment door even harder than Mary on the way out. 

 

“I’m gonna go look for Mary,” Peter muttered. When he left the compartment, he was careful to ease the door gently shut behind him. 

 

James, who was speaking quietly to Lily, stopped when he saw Remus take the seat on her other side. “It wasn’t any of them, okay?” Remus said, his head bent over Lily’s. “They didn’t do it.”

 

“How do you know?” Lily asked, leaning her head sideways into James’ shoulder. 

 

“Because we have time. They might be thinking about it, they might even be going through some sort of fucked up initiation. But if they were ready to kill an entire family they wouldn’t be going back to Hogwarts on this train.” 

 

James looked from Lily to Remus and back again. “This is about Snape, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t need Lily’s affirmation. “What happened?” 

 

“Can we please not talk about it right now?” Lily asked, tiredness evident in her voice. After a moment, she felt James relax underneath her.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “But later, you tell me what’s on your mind.”

 

“Okay. Later.” 

 

Marlene stared out the door of the compartment, watching the trolley make its way closer and closer to school, all the while wishing everyone would come back just as happy as they were when the train had taken them home. 

* * *

it was always burning

 

Peter never found Mary. By some stroke of luck or cruel twist of fate, it was Sirius who found her in the last compartment of the train, the one with the window that never quite shut and always sounded like wind. He hadn’t been looking for her but there she was, sinking in the corner like Sirius had done her some major injustice. It didn’t matter that he, too, had been looking for a place to pout. The fact that her and her self righteousness were hiding managed to piss him off enough to throw away the possibility of reconciliation and rekindle their argument. 

 

“Yelling at me was bad enough, you didn’t have to take my hiding spot too,” he said, cracking the door open. “But I got kicked out of our compartment and you didn’t, so I think I have a better claim on this one. Why don’t you go hide in the loo or something?” 

 

“You’re a piece of shit.” Arms folded, Mary glanced around at the empty corridor. “Dorcas usually finds me, but I guess she’s dealing with something else today.”

 

She still hadn’t met his eyes, and so Sirius did his best to gauge her reactions from the set of her shoulders. “They sent Pete, but he probably went the wrong way.” 

 

“Good,” Mary said to a spot on the wall three inches to the left of Sirius’ head. Then she blinked, took a deep breath, and finally addressed him directly. “Good, because I still have a bone to pick with you. You’re being disgusting and I want to know why.” 

 

“I don’t see what’s so wrong about calling this the last straw. Fighting for Kevin, so something like this never happens again.” Sirius thought involuntarily of Regulus, and just as quickly shoved the thought away. 

 

“Did your mother ever take you to church?” Mary asked, to which Sirius shook his head. “Mine did, every Sunday up until I started school. They’d tell us stories about martyrs, who people were always fighting wars for. But martyrs would always die _for_ something. They sacrifice themselves for a cause.” She paused, ran a hand over her eyes as if to rub the headache out. “This boy was eleven. His brother was fifteen, not even magic, and his parents owned a shop. This wasn’t their cause.” 

 

“But that’s all the more reason to fight for them,” Sirius pressed on. “They’re innocent—“ 

 

“So was I!” Mary’s face had turned red and something switched on behind her eyes. “So are Stephen, and my mum and dad. Someone came to me, when I was eleven, and they told me I could go somewhere far away and learn to do magic. What child do you know who would turn that down? You’d have to be mad.” 

 

Sirius had finally started listening, finally started hearing what Mary was trying to say, so she continued. “They say you’re special and they give you a choice, but I never had all the facts. Nobody told me this would put my life in danger. Nobody told me someone might kill Stephen just because they hate Muggleborns. These deaths are not a cause, or a tool, they’re a product of _your_ world. So don’t make me feel like shit for not wanting to head to the front lines tomorrow. Don’t you dare.” 

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Sirius said after a long pause. He looked tired, all of a sudden, all the defiance gone out of him. “I just know what it’s like to watch people fall victim to the other side of it. You can’t spend as much time as I did locked up in that house and not know what people like my parents and their friends are capable of. People are capable of doing a lot for money and power, but maybe…maybe this will make people notice what’s really going on.” 

 

She saw, for the first time, a bit of herself in his face, that scared shitless child buried by sarcasm and brash statements. “I’m not saying you’re wrong,” she said gently. “I just wish you were.” 

 

“There are going to be more Kevins, before this is over,” Sirius said. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Maybe if we started fighting now—“

 

“We’re no use to anyone half-trained,” Mary said. “And, like I was telling you before: we all deserve more time.” 

 

Sirius closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. It was a vain attempt to mask the fact that his eyes had filled with tears, and they both knew it. “We aren’t going to get any.” 

 

“We’ll make some, then.” Mary said. She sounded a bit like a doctor trying to cheer up a fatal prognosis. “Let’s give ourselves until the end of the month. We’ll never sleep, we’ll skip lessons. If anyone can fit a year’s worth of living into a month, it’s you.”

 

“I think,” Sirius said, his slump turning into a trademark lean, “you could give me a run for my money.” 

* * *

homecoming

 

They met Dorcas in the Entrance Hall, clutching the hand of a red-eyed Hector, looking every bit the fiercely protective sister. Hector stomped off as soon as he’d caught Marlene’s eye and seen her nod, satisfied she’d handle whatever needed handling. Dorcas tracked him through the crowd, greeting her friends without breaking her gaze. 

 

“He doesn’t want to go to the feast. He thinks he’ll cry,” she said, voice hoarse. Marlene, Lily, and James stood silently in front of her with absolutely no idea what to do. “Never mind how I’ve told him over and over it’s 1977, boys are allowed to cry.” 

 

“Hey, Dor,” James said, unwinding his arm from around Lily’s shoulder and placing it around Dorcas’. “This is the kind of thing you have to let him do alone.” 

 

Dorcas blinked. “He’s too little,” she said, watching Hector stand stoically among a group of Hufflepuffs that waited by the door. 

 

“He’s bigger than you think he is,” Marlene said. “Take this from a younger sibling—he’s stronger than you give him credit for. Let him figure this out, and give yourself a break.” 

 

Hector and two of his friends were approached by Professor Sprout, who talked to them briefly and led them down the stairs towards their common room. “Let’s go in,” Lily said, looking nervously at James. “In case he wants to hear about it later.” 

 

They sat down at the Gryffindor table, everyone knowing enough to leave them space on either side for the rest of their year. Remus and Peter slid in on the other side of the table, glancing about at the whispered conversation. 

 

“They’re all talking about it,” Peter said in a hushed tone. “How’d they find out?” James kicked him under the table, and he yelped.

 

“The Prophet,” Marlene answered. “There was a headline, and an obituary.” 

 

Sirius and Mary finally arrived, looking a bit disheveled. They’d had to run to catch up with even the last carriage, they explained, and when Dorcas finally turned to look at Mary she grinned. “You weren’t on the train so I had to turn to Black for my emotional support. It was shit, he has no idea how to keep me from internalizing my feelings.” 

 

Dorcas sighed. “I leave you alone for eight hours and not only do you drive Mary to emotional distress, you fuck up fixing it?” 

 

Sirius looked as though he was going to defend himself until Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. The room went silent at once. “Good evening,” he said, somber, and Marlene reached for Dorcas’ hand.

 

“This is a hard day for all of us. Harder, for those who knew Kevin during his short time here. Hardest for the very few in his year who had the pleasure of meeting his father, his mother, and his brother. All four of them were struck down by Death Eaters two nights ago. All four of them are casualties in a growing conflict of ideas. Our job here, as students and as teachers, is to navigate these differences in ideas. To learn, as Kevin was learning, all we can. To make lasting bonds with those in your House and out of it. We remember Kevin, today and tomorrow. We hope that you come together, and not apart. And, I implore you: keep learning. Your time here is not yet up.” 

 

The eight faces that stared up at Dumbledore from the Gryffindor table were not all the same. Some were tearstained. Some were defiant. Some just looked lost. But they all looked completely, and utterly, alone, even as they all listened together. Even as they turned their faces to their plates and began to eat. Some of them tried to start conversation. Some of them passed platters of roast chicken, of potatoes and beans, when asked. All of them drew inwards. 

 

All of them came apart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey friendos!!! it's been a while, i'm so sorry. i've been writing real original fiction for my real original fiction writing class, which does not allow for fanfiction to be turned in for credit. but i'm back! using jily as a study break yet again!!! don't expect another chapter ~soon~ but expect one eventually in every sense of the word. i love this universe and i love these characters and i love you for loving them (almost) as much as i do. 
> 
> leave a comment (if you're so inclined but PLEASE be so inclined) and also hit me up on tumblr (@emullz) bc i thrive off of internet communication and praise/criticism. i will keep plugging away at this jiliad. can't stop won't stop. 
> 
> see u eventually:)


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